


It's Been a Long Time

by justrachael



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bi-Curiosity, F/M, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Sex, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potions, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Sad Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrachael/pseuds/justrachael
Summary: Harry hadn’t seen Malfoy in just over five years. And yet, here he was at this ministry banquet. He seemed completely in his element, flowing silver robes, his longer blonde hair just touching the tops of his shoulders. On occasion, he would reach up and brush his silvery strands behind his ears. On his arm was Blaise Zabini, whom Harry could presume is his date by the way that they keep laughing together. Malfoy’s silvery blonde hair was leaning loser to Zabini’s dark chopped hair than Harry would have liked.The story of lonely Harry figuring out his obsession with the one person he could never stop thinking about.





	1. Ministry Banquet

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the story but the characters and original story belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers~  
> Enjoy the story!

Harry hadn’t seen Malfoy in just over five years. And yet, here he was at this ministry banquet. He seemed completely in his element, flowing silver robes, his long blonde hair just touching the tops of his shoulders. On occasion, he would reach up and brush his silvery strands behind his ears. On his arm was Blaise Zabini, whom Harry could presume is his date by the way that they keep laughing together. Malfoy’s silvery blonde hair was leaning loser to Zabini’s dark chopped hair than Harry would have liked. 

Not that he really cares, that is. He’s just a bit lonely since Ginny broke up with him for not ‘supporting her quidditch dream’ a week ago. Well, seven days and a few hours to be exact, from the moment he’s been left alone. As if he was at all unsupportive. He just didn’t want her to spend half the year that far away from him. He wanted the company of his girlfriend, what’s wrong with that? He also refused to uproot himself from Grimmauld place. He couldn’t just follow Ginny to her practices with the Harpies. It would take him away from Sirius. She couldn’t understand him. Harry had a flashback of Ginny’s face in a scowl, yelling at Harry. “You don’t want to move on with me! You don’t want to move on from the war at all! I’m not the same girl as I was five years ago Harry, and yet you haven’t changed at all!” And then the fight had gone out of her, her shoulders dropped and she closed her eyes for a minute. “I want to be the love of your life and yet I don’t see that kind of passion you Harry. For anything. I know that you don’t want to be an Auror after your PTSD was triggered during training, but you haven’t done anything since then, and I just...can't relate to you anymore. I will always love you... I’m sorry, but I’m leaving and we’re over.” And she walked out. Harry has just been sleeping all over his house as a result. Napping on the couch. Napping in Sirius’s old room. Napping in the kitchen (until Kreacher ‘accidentally’ whacked him an ancient broom that smelled of formaldehyde), and then, at his lowest point: the cupboard under the spiral staircase in the front hall of Grimmauld place. He confided in Hermione and Ron about his sleeping troubles and they were the ones to convince him to come to the latest Ministry Banquet. He doesn’t even know what this banquet is for, to be honest. 

He spots Ron and Hermione as they enter the banquet together, hand in hand. Hermione’s wildly curly hair was pinned to the back of her head with a few tendrils framing her face, and she looked radiant in her lavender dress. Ron’s classic cut tux suited his gangly body and the muscles he gained from Auror training. Seeing them will never not calm his heart, Harry knows. Seeing the new people most important to him in the world, alive and happy redirects all of the bitterness seeping in from his previous line of thoughts.

They spot Harry and approach him.  
“Hey, mate, how are you?” Ron hugs Harry just the same as he always has, welcoming and with his whole body.  
“Fine, just fine.” Harry turns to Hermione and smiles at her before accepting her more relaxed hug.  
“Are you here alone, Harry? I was worried about that to be honest, and I had already planned on asking Luna for you but you just never seemed keen to discuss it and…”  
“Hermione, please stop. Yes, I’m alone. It’s fine. It is the way it is. Please don’t bother Luna, you know how busy she is running the Quibbler since it’s become popular reading.”  
Hermione huffed and sigh and regarded Harry through fond but worried eyes. “I want nothing more than for you to be happy Harry. Truly.”  
“‘Mione, Harry is just fine. He would have told me otherwise.” Ron’s eye crinkle at Harry with trust. “Of course, mate.” Harry patted his back.  
“Also, both of you, did you happen to notice...Malfoy is here.” Harry strived to sound as normal as possible. The problem with trying to sound as normal as possible is that you forget what normal is meant to sound like, and Harry knew immediately by the site of Hermione’s eyes narrowing that he couldn’t at all pull off ‘casual conversation’ in regards to Draco Malfoy.  
“Hmm” Hermione made a noncommittal sound as she spotted the man in question whose arm was linked with the dashing Blaise Zabini. “It’s not so strange, really. Blaise does mention Malfoy ever now and so in the office.” The office of Law and Management in Magic, that is. Where Hermione spends some of her time. The time that is not focused on Care and Treatment of Magical Beasts, The Muggle Science Initiative, St. Muggle’s Initiative Treatment Division, and Keeping the Other Two Members of the Golden Trio Out of Trouble Directive. 

“Ah, does he now?” Harry is still trying to sound casual. 

“Weird to know he’s a bit of a poof, huh?” Ron shrugged. “Never would have guessed it, myself. And I knew about Charlie before he formally came out a few years ago.”

“Yes, well, Ronald, Charlie has always been a tad obvious, with his love for rugged dragon riders and all that.” Hermione turns away from Ron to make full eye contact with Harry.

“Please leave Malfoy alone, Harry. He’s become quite philanthropic towards my charities and we do always need the money. He also sent me a letter many years ago full of apologies and they seemed quite heartfelt. Don’t bother him, okay?”

“He sent you a letter? Wow, I can’t believe I never got one with the way he always bullied me in school. Unbelievable.”

Hermione shot him her unamused face “You did almost kill the guy, Harry. Maybe you should apologize to him?”

Harry had sometimes contemplated about that horrid curse, sectumsempra and the horrid effects it had had on Malfoy’s skinny body. He did almost kill him. It’s been years, but he still tries not to think about it. 

With that statement, and a pointed look, she dragged Ron off onto the dance floor “See you later, mate!” and Harry was once again, alone in the corner, admiring Malfoy’s hair in the floating candlelight. And his amazingly expressive eyes. Oh, dear. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco hasn’t attended a military banquet since he was a boy hanging on his father’s cloak-tails with wide-eyed innocence. Now, he is a tad less innocent but no less nervous. Zabini had practically begged Draco to join him as he would have been “an extremely sad specimen of a Slytherin all alone among the carnivorous Gryffindors of the ministry.” Draco was also a bit interested since he does still enjoy the glitter and prestige of the rich and powerful; and the chance to promote himself as a potions master. He has a decent stream of clients, but could always appreciate more. Especially ones of less...unscrupulous variety. After all, if a public known ministry employee were to shop at his potion’s store, that would undoubtedly improve his general reputation. He knew that it was likely that Potter would attend. He was still The Chosen One, even if he dismally failed his Auror training. Or dropped out. Or was bribed to leave. Draco wasn’t sure which rumor to believe yet. Blaise was convinced that someone had bribed Potter to leave his post, because of the influence he would have on the ministry as a whole, but Pansy simply thought he couldn’t handle the pressure of the difficult tasks required of Auror training, the dueling, exercises, classes. 

Draco was of a mind to think that it was the popular and his own famous that caused Potter to cease his training. Although, he didn’t the man that well anymore. Not that they were close in school. The longing to redo his youth pushed against Draco’s sensibilities, but he fought it down. He must repent for his past actions. 

And yet, when Draco scanned the room from Blaise’s side it was a shock to his system to see the unmistakable messy hair, and bespectacled face enters the elaborately decorated banquet hall. 

Draco wet his lips and appealed to Blaise, “Do you...think I should talk to him? Or would that make him upset?”

Zabini narrowed his eyes at Draco, “Who is “he”? Do you have a secret lover Draco?”

“Of course not. I just meant, well, Potter, of course.”

“I’m not sure if I’m following you, Draco. Talk to him if you want or avoid him if you want. Do you have something to say to the Chosen One with horrid hair?”

Draco spied Potter from the corner of his eye as the man in question leans against a wall with a sigh. Alone. His green robes billowed about his frame, highlighting his eyes beneath the circular frames. His handsome face spoke of the fraught of his youth; in an appealing way. At least, appealing to Draco, that is. 

“I haven’t spoken to him since he gave me my wand back. It’s been five years, and all that.”

Blaise shakes his head bemused. “Go, Draco. You look like you’re mooning over Potter for chrissake! If it were any other man, I’d say go take him home. As it is, maybe you need to get things off of your chest. This could, in that case, be a good opportunity.”

Draco bit his lip. The thought of airing out his thoughts and apologizing to Potter, after all this time...with Potter looking as he does...was making his stomach clench up. 

“I think I will stay with you, my dear closest friend, Blaise.”

“Hmm. I do believe that I am one of two friends Draco. But thank you all the same.”  
Blaise wrapped his arm around Draco and lead him towards the bar.

“Maybe if I get some alcohol in you, you would man up a bit, Draco.”

Draco wouldn’t at all mind the alcohol, but he knew that he wouldn’t approach Potter. He had disturbed the man’s life enough. He was the savior of the wizarding world and deserved his time to be spent happily. Draco had come here to market his new potions business and to support Blaise; it should be easy to focus on his tasks and leave the poor man alone for the rest of the night. 

Now, he just needs to stop staring at him. And into his famous green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic ever! (Even though I've been reading them since 2008...) Please leave a comment if you have anything to say about my writing or story; I'd love to hear it! 
> 
> This is a lot more to this story, so please come back for more!  
> -justrachael


	2. Uneasy Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I wrote this piece, the characters and plot all belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers~

Harry didn’t have to worry about being alone for long after his two best friends sauntered off. After all, who would let the savior of the wizarding world rot in a corner of a ministry event? Certainly not the current Minister of Magic, himself. Who had spotted one of his favorite young friends looking a tad lost standing with his slumped posture. If he slumped any further he could face plant himself into the potted decorative fern directly to his right. Which would cause the interior decorating team some undue stress. 

Harry was lazily watching his two best friends dance. Ron was gazing down at Hermione with obvious devotion, and Hermione had a pale red blush adorning her cheeks. Harry was overjoyed that they were happy together. It makes him feel more stable. He feels as if at least one thing in his life makes sense, and will still stay there when everything comes crumbling down.

He wanted to just go back to Sirius’s place, stare at the picture of his godfather he restored to the Black’s mural, and then crawl up in a ball in that little room under the stairs. Maybe stare at the spiders on the wall for a bit. Oh, and he supposes he’ll eat one of Kreacher’s sandwiches as well. 

“Harry! I’m so glad to see you here, boy!” Harry was startled out of his reverie and blinked. Losing Draco’s gaze. He turned to face Kingsley.

“Yes, well. I thought it might do me some good. Getting out of the house.” He returned the enthusiastic hug. Hermione and Ron thought it would do him some good, that is. 

Kingsley’s face turned sympathetic, “My boy, I would gladly send you on Auror missions if you would consent to see a Mental Healer for a few months first. I want you at your best.”

“I don’t need a Mental Healer, Kingsley. So many people have dealt with their demons. I’m the last person who should take away that resource from someone who truly needs it.” Harry ruefully shook his head, “It would be wasted on me.”

“I wish I could change your mind, believe me, if only there was a legal spell to make you see yourself through my eyes. And yet…” He clapped Harry hard on the shoulders, resulting in Harry’s slumped over body becoming comically so, until he righted himself. “Why don’t you join me in doing my rounds? I could introduce you to some of the newest on my staff? I had to do so much new hiring, of course, because of the new departments put in place about three years ago or so? Oh, of course, you remember, you were head-starting quite a few of them with Hermione at the time…”

Harry tuned out Kingsley’s talk after he began to regale Harry with his own past efforts. Harry is proud of the divisions, of course, he is. The new Department of Muggle Cohabitation and the Department of House Elf Management were such amazing achievements. Allowing education of muggle technology to adult Ministry employees, and giving a place of house elves to find working and paid positions gave Harry so much happiness. However, it’s been a few years since then and he can feel himself sinking into a hole he expects to never crawl back out of. 

Harry was pulled from one wizard to another witch, who all squinted through his bangs for the first five seconds of their acquaintance before saying something along the lines of “Thank you so much, Mr. Potter, for your splendid work a few years ago.” Harry wished they wouldn't it. Not only does it make it seem as if he installed their new toilet instead of killing the most powerfully evil man in a hundred years, it makes him embarrassed to still have people regard him as someone special five years after the fact. 

Kingsley’s lead Harry over to where the new Secretary Undersecretary to the Minister is. “He is from your year, a bit young. But he has so much drive, and when we interviewed him, he seemed utterly in his element. I expect him to go far in the ministry ranks.” Harry blinked when he realized that he was standing in front of Blaise Zabini. 

Who was patiently waiting, his hand outstretched in front of him. “Ah, yes, hello, Zabini.”  
Harry, clumsily, whipped out his hand from under his robe and grabbed Zabini’s in a firm one pump shake. 

“It has certainly been a while, Potter. You look...well.” From up close, Harry knew that the bags under his eyes stood out a bit more than he would like, and he will always be more scrawny than what is typically attractive. He is healthy though! He just needs to find a method to get more sleep at night. Once he can work through that, he’ll be as good as new and can become an Auror just like his parents. He needs to reach his goal. Why is it that he only wants to sleep and yet sleep deserts him. Fickle creature, sleep is. 

“You as well, Zabini.” It pains him that Zabini does indeed, look well. His dark skin was practically poreless and his confidence cast a mirage over any potentially unattractive physical part. He was radiant. And he knew it. It should have been surprising that a Slytherin was appointed as Secretary Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and yet Harry had tried to combat that very prejudge line of thought for years, within himself, and within the wizarding community at large. He was quite glad that Zabini had gotten the job. He had seemed competent enough at school (what little Harry did remember of a school year Zabini was academic in nature). He wasn’t involved in the Death Eater, in fact, even his parents weren't. It is a tad tragic that Harry considers that a feat in that day and age. Zabini will do a good job of supporting Kingsley with his day to day work. 

Zabini smirked and gestured to his right. “Minister, Potter, may I also regale you with the news that my dear friend’s potion shop has some openings for customers.”

Harry didn’t know how he could have missed him. After all, Draco Malfoy was still a few inches taller, his hair a startling white blonde, and his face, although remaining it’s angular shape, even more beautiful than when Harry had spotted him earlier. He wasn't quite smiling. At least, Harry was pretty sure that wasn't a smile. His lips were pulled up a tad at the ends, but Harry just couldn’t tell if he was happy...or...

Malfoy swallowed and seemed uncharacteristically, to Harry’s mind, timid, but he gracefully shook his hand out his sleeve and presented it to Harry to shake. 

“It’s been a long time.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Potter seemed transfixed on Draco’s hand, and Draco wasn’t quite sure how to react. Should he...just wait it out? Put his hand back down? Slap his head? It almost seemed as if Potter was having some sort of panic attack with the way his mouth was opening and closing and his breath was accelerating. 

“Potter, are you quite al-”

Potter’s hand whipped up and clasped his, his eyes still stuck on Draco’s hand. He took in a lungful of breath.  
Potter raised his head. “It has been, indeed. You look well.”

Draco was a bit stunned by Potter’s unusual behavior, but he also enjoyed the feeling of his palm against Potter’s and therefore didn’t release his former enemies’ hand. 

“Thank you.”

The two young men missed the bewildered glance shared between the Minister of Magic and his new Secretary Undersecretary. They also were not aware of a one Hermione Granger-Weasley’s piercing glare at their clasped hands from her position of resting her head against her husband’s shoulder. Ron Granger-Weasley was only aware of how good his wife’s shampoo smells. 

Potter released his hand. Draco turned slightly and mechanically shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with the Minister, “Why this banquet is quite lovely. I’m sure that it’ll raise the money needed for the muggle-born training camp just at the end of August, Minister,” before he again, retreated into the background. He was most comfortable as Blaise’s shadow these days. Blaise basked under attention. Draco used to demand attention. Some of his childhood tantrums were legendary in the pureblood community. The past five years or so, he has been living a more subdued life instead. He has found that potion making calms him, and diminishes some of the lingering physical pain, and living alone, making his own tea and experimenting with different dishes leave him content. He never wants to feel the stress and danger he had once felt, and instead buys plants and cat food with his profit at the potion store. He lives in a small little house with a front porch and a carefully tended garden. He also sends money to the charities that touch his unredeemable heart. The new orphanages that have been erected in the aftermath, and St. Mungo’s new survivor’s guilt wing. He knows that it isn’t enough. He wrote a few letters about three years ago, about fifty, and sent them to those who felt he had personally harmed. A few people had written back their forgiveness. A few people had written back curses. A few howlers, and a few olive branches. Draco knows that he can only try to keep striving. 

Potter’s eyes kept flickering over to meet him, and he shivered each time. When he had seen Potter and the Minister approach Blaise and him, Draco's heart was beating out of his chest with nerves. He had told Blaise that it wouldn't be anything more than an uneasy conversation bent on making everyone feel as uncomfortable as possible, but Blaise just grinned and said this was a great opportunity for his potion's shop.

Draco kept averting his gaze when Potter peaked over at him, but couldn't help analyzing the state of his old classmate. He was a little worse for wear, tired and overwhelmed. However, It didn't matter how rundown Harry looked. He was still the only person to ever attract Draco in this way. Draco wished he could smother the man’s face with kisses to lighten up the dark under his eyes. He wishes he could cook him food after food for Potter to eat and gain the weight he needs, he wishes he could see a reciprocation of a smile. Or a smile at all. Merlin, Draco wishes that he could see Potter smile, just once, at him. If Potter did that, maybe Draco could finally forgive himself. Maybe Draco would be able to socialize again. Maybe he could socialize with a certain dark haired, green eyes wizard, with an amazing personality, and his body….

Potter’s gaze swung back to Draco’s. Draco looked away took a deep breath. He knew that he had to leave. He knew that he’s supposed to stay and promote his shop and be a good sport about the banquet, and yet...he had had enough. He could tell that Potter was wary of him. The guilt of being a burden to the Chosen One preys on his mind. He is usually so well versed in pleasantries, and yet, today he can’t seem to make his mouth work with the proper words. He tapped Blaise on the shoulder, knowing that he was rude to interrupt their conversation, and whispered in his ear,

“I can’t...do this. I’m leaving. I will fire call you tomorrow.”  
The look Blaise gave him told Draco that his friend was not amused by his running away. He will undoubtedly hear about this later, and Blaise will make him feel bad about it. But Draco had the urge to run. He needed to get out from under Potter’s judgemental stare. He nodded at both Potter and the Minister and slowly backed away. 

He had to feed his cat anyway...in a few hours. It was time for him to retire for the evening and soak in his bathtub. 

He could feel Potter’s eyes on his back as he attempted to duplicate his signature saunter. It made the hair on the back of his head stand up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back for more! This will be a slow burn Harry X Draco, but it will get nice and hot soon enough~ ;)
> 
> -Justrachael


	3. Can you help me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers own Harry Potter! I only wrote this for fun~

Harry woke up with a gasp. He could feel sweat dripping onto his brow. His heart hurt from it’s relentless pounding. He slowly sat up and immediately hit the ceiling with his head. Oh, that’s right. He spent the night in the cupboard again. How typical. Harry Potter sleeping in a cupboard, with the dust bugs, coercing with spiders, in the dark. Where he belongs. He doesn’t even properly fit in these spaces anymore. Not since he’s built a bit a muscle from Auror training and then lost it by lying around in misery. 

He can still remember the remnants of his dream. Voldemort is never the main focus. After all, Harry knew that Tom was just a man underneath his conquest for power. He also was able to kill him and could witness his death. No, Voldemort rarely appears in his nightmares lately. 

It’s the dead. Usually the stars of his nightmares are those Harry loves dearly. Sirius, Remus, Dobby, Fred. An endless cycle of those he couldn’t save. He knows that drowning in guilt is probably unhealthy, but he can’t seem to snap out of the feeling of permanently letting down those who relied on him. He was the chosen one. He had an inside look into Voldemort’s mind. And it still took him YEARS to sort through information and finally kill the man. Sirius’s eyes as he passed into the veil have been haunting him ever since he moved into Grimmauld place and had nothing but time on his hands.

Nowadays, Harry can’t even distract himself with Ginny. Her humor, bright outlook, and drive always peeped Harry up. But since they broke up, he’s only been sinking further and further into the depths of this cupboard. 

Harry was just about to leave the cupboard to find one of the bathrooms around the large estate when he heard the pop of the fire fireplace. He knew it could only be Hermione or Ron. 

“Harry? Where are you? I thought maybe we could go out for lunch at that new Indian restaurant around the...oh dear.”

The footsteps were getting closer, sped up, and then his cupboard door burst open. 

“Oh, Harry. What can I do? Why would you give me a problem that I can’t just research the answers too.”

Harry leaned toward Hermione as she hugged him back to earth. He returned her embrace and turned his head into her curly hair, smelling her comforting scent. 

“I think I’m drowning Hermione.”

He could feel her tears in his hair.

“I’m sorry Harry, I’ll stop crying soon.”

“No, no. I think my nightmares are drowning me.”

Hermione pulled back. Her face was the mask of sadness. Thick tears running down her face, messy pink blots on her cheeks. But her eyes held only determination. 

“We need to find you a mind healer.”

Harry looked away.

“You know I could never do therapy.”

Hermione closed her eyes, wishing for patience and insight.

“Okay, then first, I’m going to firecall Ron. You need him. My first goal is for you to be sleeping without nightmares, so that you can at least function. You know, leave the house, wake up at a reasonable time, maybe cook food for yourself, show up at your appointments. I really thought that you going to the banquet would help you have a reality breakthrough but it seems to have backfired.... And then, when I think the time is right we will revisit getting you therapy.”

Hermione supported Harry on their trip from the cupboard to the kitchen. Kreacher looked at him with disgust but dropped satisfactory sandwiches in front of them. Harry didn’t realize it was almost one in the afternoon.  
“After you eat that, we’re going to an apothecary for a dreamless sleep potion. You will drink that potion. And then I’ll wake you up tomorrow and we will leave this house and go out for lunch. ” Hermione shouted at him as she went over to his fireplace. 

“Don’t you have work?”

It seemed as if Hermione was about to sob again. “No, Harry. Today is Saturday.”

She turned towards the fire and after an incantation, stuck her head through the flames. Harry could hear her speaking in a low voice with Ron. Normally, he would try to eavesdrop. Or would automatically try to listen in to their conversation, but he was so tired. Chewing the sandwich was taking all of the energy left in him. But then, he realized that he had a concern with something Hermione had said earlier.

“Uhh Hermione. If the prophet had any idea that Harry Potter was buying dreamless sleep, can you just imagine the slander they’ll write about me? No, we can’t go out. I’m sure we can make it just make it here. You’re brilliant at potions”

Hermione smirked, sitting down at the table after she ended her fire call with Ron. “Yes, I am. But this is a difficult potion and I would rather get one professionally made for you.And, actually, at the banquet, I heard of a place where I’m sure will keep your identity a secret.” She tilted her head. “Ron wasn’t overjoyed with my choice. But he sees the logic. He’s meeting us there.”

Harry muched his tuna fish sandwich, tracing the lines in the wooden table with his gaze. 

“Hermione, did you see Malfoy leave the banquet last night?”

“No, I didn’t. I assumed he was with Blaise. Did he...leave for a reason?”

Harry winced. “I think it was the sight of me that did it for him. Couldn’t stand being in my presence for more than five minutes.”

“Well, I would say that’s a tad extreme. I’m sure he’s just busy lately. Don’t obsess, Harry. Finish your sandwich.”  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Draco’s Saturday had started as they typically do, with him eating oatmeal in his small kitchen. He also poured himself a glass of milk. 

He knew that he should be embarrassed about his speedy exit from the ministry banquet the previous evening, but couldn’t find it in him to care. If nothing else, he learned to make run away with relative grace, as a Malfoy. 

Well, regardless, he’s glad he left last night. He played with Lilac, the white kitty that he adopted about a year ago, and he relaxed with a steamy romance book before sleeping.

After Draco ate breakfast, feed and petted Lilac, he left for his store. It wasn’t a particularly long walk. Only a staircase away.

He lives on the edge of Knockturn Alley, a bit far away from Diagon Alley for his tastes, and a bit too close to Borgan and Burkes for his sensibilities, but he’s generally happy with his apartment and storefront. No one would sell him a storefront anywhere closer to Diagon Alley, in fact, they were adamantly awful to Draco. He was relieved that someone would sell to him, and that he can live and work in a quiet place. Since he lives in close proximity with Knockturn Alley he took his time to make his store inviting to the public at large by painting the outside white, and having immaculately clean decor. Draco has found in the four years that he’s lives alone that he enjoys cleaning. He likes having everything in its place and even the acts of wiping, dusting, and sprucing the shop and his apartment. He hopes that he’ll attract more people outside of the those with dubious reputations, but it continues to be difficult as he’s fighting against his own dark reputation. 

He rubs his left arm through his sleeve. The dark mark on his skin is a death sentence in its own right, after all. It chases away his customers, friends, and lovers. Not that he’s had a lover. They don’t seem to be flocking to him in hordes like he his dreams at thirteen made him believe would happen. It doesn’t bother him though. Not when he’s spent most of his life in a state of pining anyway. 

Draco has a quiet morning. He bulks up his stock with he more popular items lately, pepper-up potions are always in demand, and sleeping aid potions of course. Although, some of his potions require a medical note to purchase, most are fairly calm and meant to only help the body go back to an equilibrium state. 

Stirring the potions calms Draco. Having a routine has aided his own personal recovery from the war, although some physical reminders will never leave, his mentality and outlook on life has improved. Being self-sufficient, having a job that helps people, seeing people (if only for the few minutes they enter and leave his store) and Lilac all have helped him come to terms with his life. 

His mother is a joy some days and a depressant others, but Draco is grateful for her, and they talk often. She’s had a hard time coming to terms with the aftermath of the war, their reputation in shatters, and their luxuries in life, gone. His father is where he belongs. In Azkaban for the rest of his life. Draco remembers how shocked he was at the accusations against his father during his death eater trial. He had had no idea of the threats on Potter’s life that father had done. He had almost killed Potter when they were only in their second year at Hogwarts...that train of thoughts is haunting. Learning of the horrible deeds that he father committed did make it easier to stop caring for him, though. He has not visited him in Azkaban. 

Draco had just put the stopper in the vial of the potion he had finished (for the only pregnant woman who would accept such a fragile prenatal potion from him-Pansy) when the door of his shop opens with the jingling of the bell tied to the top. 

“I will assist you in one second.” With his back turned, he places the vial on the shelf above his cauldron workspace and exits his potion room.

Is he dreaming? It seems as if the golden trio is in his potion shop. And from the shocked look on his face, Potter didn’t realize that it was his shop…Granger had a bright smile on her face, bordering on fake and Weasley had his arms crossed and seemed unhappy to be standing in his shop. The glare he was giving Draco should have killed him immediately. 

Granger stepped forward, “Hello Malfoy, your shop is quite lovely. I was sorry that I did not have the chance to talk to your last night about your potions business.”

Draco wiped his hands down the front of his apron and cleared his throat. His internal pep talk was reassuring him that he is a shop owner, this is his job, and he can assist them. Be professional. 

“Yes, indeed. Is there any potion in particular that interests you? I’m afraid that I haven’t yet branched out into more peculiar items and have stayed relatively within the more every day and practical items.”

“I need a sleeping potion.” All three former classmates turn and face the defeated sounding Potter. The bags under his eyes were pronounced and his skin unhealthily pale. “You see, I have nightmares. I need to be able to have a restful sleep, Malfoy.”

Weasley spun and faced Potter, grabbing him by the shoulders, “But we can go to St. Mungos and they can properly help you, mate. Malfoy can’t possibly make the only potions in the world that can help you, can he? I think you’re better off getting real help, mate, just look at you...wasting away.”

Potter’s eyes strayed away from Weasley’s toward mine. It was almost as if Weasley hadn’t talked to him at all. “Do you have anything to help me? And all of this is a secret. If you tell the prophet…”

He pushed Ron away, who released Potter from his grip and clenched his jaw, and stomped towards Draco, who was holding his breath in wait.

“I will destroy you.” The whispered threat from Potter causes Draco to feel lightheaded. 

Granger comes closer to them. “Harry, what are you saying! Malfoy has been nothing but a merchant for four years, running his shop. I think he’s trustworthy, no need for talk like that!”  
“No, no, Granger, stop. It’s fine. I accept your terms, Potter. And I have just the potion to help you.” Draco had never felt more alive.

“Now, if you’ll only just follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) It was really sweet of you ;)


	4. Fond of Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character involved in this story and the Harry Potter phenomenon belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. I'm just here for a little fun.

Ron Weasley doesn’t trust Draco Malfoy. He knows that Hermione would have done her research before bringing them here, and he acknowledges that he’s never come across any report against the man while completing his Auror paperwork, but a world in which he puts his faith in Draco Malfoy will never exist.

He’s a spindly little coward. Ron studies Malfoy from afar, his stance defensive as they watch him fiddle with bottles on a shelf inside of what is indubitably his potion making room. The room had a faint smoke wafting around them and there were no less than five cauldrons on two tables on each parallel wall of the room. The wall in front of the door held vials of what is presumably potions.

He glances at his best friend, one of the most meaningful people in the world to him. He’s not looking good. He hasn’t for over year if he’s being honest with himself, but at least when he was with Ginny, he knew that Ginny would take care of him. That thought paralyzed him. Ron realized that he had never thought of Harry has protecting Ginny and but thought of Ginny as his anchor. Keeping his best friend afloat. He knew that their breakup was bad. Harry shared that Ginny had trouble with his sleep schedule, and his aimless life and Ginny had told him that she needed to move on. Ron would have liked to see them together forever, but looking at Harry now...Ginny was not enough to help him, was she?

Was Ron? No, probably not. Hermione had discussed her plan with him earlier in the week, before the banquet, when they had found him in his cupboard, dirty, depressed, weak. Changes need to happen. He sees the gaunt look in Harry’s eyes and knows that Harry’s looked worst. After all, Ron’s seen everything. He’s seen Harry at the edge of death and after his return. He’s seen him after battling the ghost of Tom Riddle, recovering from a Basilisk bite miraculously healing from a Phoenix tear, and he’s seen him suffer from the mind control of a madman. For years. No, Ron’s seen it all. But it was always something they could fight against. Plan and plot and countless evenings researching, talking, coping. He doesn’t have the words to help Harry with the nightmares. His are...better. But then again, he sought help and started to see Bill’s therapist soon after the war. Healer Philips helped him. 

Ron realized that his mind had been wandering and focused back on the present. Malfoy was talking. “Now, Potter, I need to ask you some personal questions in order to prescribe you any potion. It is for determining dosage.” He had vials on the table in front of him, conjured three more chairs to join what was obviously Malfoys’ normal potion chair and gestured for them to sit.

Harry sighed and practically crumpled into the chair. 

“There’s nothing about me that you can’t find on paper. What do you want?”

Ron sat in the chair to Harry’s right, Hermione to his left. They exchanged glances, wary. 

Outside of Hermione, his heart, Harry was the only person outside of his family for whom he would do anything for. Risk anything, try anything, trust anything.   
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry has given up, slumped in this uncomfortable, wooden chair in his childhood rival’s store waiting for a potion to take away the nightmares. He has nothing else to lose, after all. Why not take some death potion from Malfoy and quietly disappear. If Malfoy killed him, he doesn’t think he would be too upset. After all, it’s been his life’s work, right? He might even look down from above on Malfoy and clap for him as he celebrates his ultimate win. Harry bets that Malfoy would look so nice with his smile nice and wide, his face transformed from pointed and unpleasant to nicely angelic. He’d like to see it. 

Malfoy clears his throat. Grabs a legal pad from a nook under the table and a quill and ink set. He seems prepared for whatever interview Harry had inadvertently signed up for. 

“How old are you?”

Harry blinks. “Is that a trick question? We’re the same age. 24.” 

Malfoy’s cheeks color. ‘I know, however, I am a professional and must ask you everything on this list because you have not seen a Healer before coming to me. Please understand.” He seemed to be getting more and more agitated. “Most people come to me for over the counter potions, or they have a healer’s note. I don't normally have to go through this formality, please humor me. 

“Yeah, okay. Fine. Question two?”

The next few questions were in regards to Harry’s diet “I don’t eat much when left on my own. I would say the past week, I’ve had a few breakfasts made by Kreacher, and today I ate with Hermione. I can’t remember...much else” His exercise routine “I don’t exercise, typically. Has never been a thought.” Malfoy took a note and then paused with his quill in the air. He took a breath.

“Sexual orientation?”

Harry blinked. “Straight.” Malfoy let out his breath, his cheeks returning to his normal complexion. Of course, he’s straight. He’s never even heard of a gay wizard. Well. That’s a little unfair. He’s heard the rumors about Dumbledore, but that just seemed so far-fetched and unlikely. And he knows that Charlie’s gay, but he hasn’t interacted with him since he was a teenager, so it’s a little hard to believe. Harry was raised in the muggle world for his entire childhood and being gay was something the Dursleys were vehemently opposed to. He could even recall Uncle Dursley ranting at the TV about gay rights parades and stances. Harry’s never had gay thoughts though. That would be crazy.

“Of course. And have you been sexually active in the last month?”

Harry peeked at Ron with a grimace. Ginny and Harry had had a very sexually life. Flashes of Ginny riding him, her red hair cascading down over their panting, red faces as Harry exploded in her came to mind. “Well, yes, in the last month. But Ginny broke up with me over a week ago at this point.” 

“It’s fine, mate.” Ron rubbed Harry’s shoulder and received a small smile. 

Malfoy nodded his head. Wrote one last note with a flourish, and stood up. 

“Please stand that I can take your weight, height and blood pressure.”

 

Harry did so and Malfoy waved his wand in accordance with the spells his spoke.

“Your weight is twenty pounds too low, and your blood pressure is too low.”

Malfoy seemed quite uncomfortable now, his forehead a mess of confused wrinkled, his hand rubbing his jaw.

“Let me consult my notes.” He moves to the bookshelf beside the vial shelves, selects a thick book and while crouched down, begins to sift through the pages in a hurry.

“He can’t take the Dreamless Sleep, can he? Not with a low blood pressure. His low weight can also cause the nettles in the recipe to cause him possible kidney damage.” Hermione started tapping her right foot on the ground.

“Oh, what to do, what to do. No, he can’t take a lower dosage, nothing will happen. Or if he takes a Dream Reducing potion, the outcome of his anxiety could rise, and that wouldn’t solve anything…” Hermione began to fret, her mind going a mile a minute and Harry could only watch her, dissociating himself from the situation. 

Malfoy snapped the book shut and turned to glare at Hermione.

“Please be quiet Granger, I can’t think with your ceaseless chatter. I know that you are quite knowledgeable on most subjects but this is my forte.”

“What can you do if he can’t take any of the potions on the market? Harry can’t have another sleepless night, he’s so weak and practically not himself. I need a plan with a working potion or else why are we even here?”

“I have an idea for a potion.” Malfoy taps the feathered end of his quill against his pointed chin in thought, the crease between his eyebrows only growing more pronounced. 

“But it’s hasn’t yet been cleared for regular purchase. It is currently going through tests at St. Mungo's. It might be months yet before it passes, or ...doesn’t.”

Hermione leaned forward, her face avid. “Explain it to me.”

Harry watched as Malfoy steepled his fingers together in avid fascination. What is it about Malfoy’s hands that seem to capture his attention? 

“It is a Fond Sleep potion. It causes the person to have a happy sensation while sleeping. It is not meant to cause happy dreams, or invoke any dreams, however that aspect is still being debated through testing at St. Mungo's. I really think it could help Potter, here, because it is a relatively mild potion and has no lasting effects, known that is. He could use it while in his current state and at his current weight.” He drops his head into his hands. “I can’t give it to him. It hasn’t been approved for sale. I’m so sorry, this was a mistake.” His face is covered by his hands, Harry is staring at Draco, but all three of the Golden Trio can hear Malfoy’s voice come through. 

There was a tense pause. “Could I see the recipe for this potion, Malfoy?” If Harry had looked over at his friend at that moment, he would have seen that Hermione has a contemplative look on her face. 

Malfoy sighed, released his face and reached for the large text he had retrieved before. He pulls out a bit of parchment and hands it to Hermione.

Hermione takes her time reading over the parchment.

“May I offer you some tea?” 

“Yes, I’d like some.” Harry found himself saying. Malfoy blinked at him, his grey eyes clear. “That’s good. And you, Weasley?”

Ron shook his head, his expression unimpressed. 

Malfoy left the room to prepare the tea, his gait as graceful as ever, Harry couldn’t help but notice.

Ron leaned towards him, an intense look in his eye. “This is clearly insane, Harry. I want you well, and I can’t in a million years see what Malfoy could do for you. He’s a manipulative git and always will be.”

Harry looked away. “I honestly am a bit of a mess, Ron. I truly don’t know if I trust Malfoy. But I need something. I do. I need something. Can’t you see.” Ron’s gaze searched his and with a grunt, leaned back into his chair. 

Malfoy walked back into the room with a pink teapot adorned with blooming roses and three matching cups. 

Hermione put down the parchment. 

“I have a plan.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco looked over at Granger and offered you a cup of tea, which she accepted and took a sip of. Potter also took one his offered teacup and held it between both of his hands. 

Draco sat down in his chair, his back straight, his posture pristine and ready to listen to Granger’s plan. 

Granger took a deep breath before explaining her idea in detail. 

“Harry obviously has to take this potion. I don’t see anything in the materials that should cause a negative effect on him, and he’s not directly allergic to anything in general, so I think it’s worth the risk. However, I’m extremely nervous about him being alone while taking an experimental potion. You’ll have to stay with us, Harry. I know we only have the one bedroom, but the couch is quite large and definitely enough for you…”

She broke off when she noticed Harry shaking his head at her. “I could never ask you two to deal with me during my night terrors. You can’t understand how awful it is. You both have high-risk jobs and need the sleep; I just couldn’t do it.”

Granger deflated. “Harry, please. You must take this. I think this could be an important start to your recovery. Don’t fight staying with us, we would absolutely love to have you.”

“We can listen to the games together mate, and have dinner together. You know that I would love to see you more regardless.” 

Draco was mildly impressed with Granger and Weasley’s partnership. They seemed to work together as a well-oil machine and their explanations seem to be swaying Potter into answering.

And then Potter went still, cocked his head and looked at Draco dead on. Draco was relieved to see how lucid Potter seemed in that moment. He had been, admittedly, not his best this afternoon. Absentminded, drowsy, and sometimes obviously not following the conversation. 

“I want to stay with Malfoy.”

Draco blinked in surprise and saw his own shocked surprise repeated on the faces of the other two golden trio members. 

“Harry, no way. Absolutely over my dead body.” Weasley’s voice was soft but unwavering.

Potter didn’t even look in his direction. 

“No, this is right. I want to stay with Malfoy. He’s a Potion Master and he created this potion, if anything were to go wrong. He’s really the only one qualified to help me. It’s reasonable.”

“No! I could never let you put yourself in harm’s way! I thought Hermione was nuts for bringing us here, to begin with, because Malfoy’s always been a manipulative little git out to kill you, but this is too far and I could never support this decision!”

Harry glanced at Ron.

“This is my life. My say is final.”

Hermione has been in a state of contemplation for the past minute, her head cocked and by her expression, Draco could tell that she was going through the many ways that this plan could fail or succeed.

“Harry, is there a different reason why you want to stay with Malfoy? Ron and I are perfectly capable of dealing with any potion mishaps, if not as much as Malfoy with this products and lab.”

“I like him. Malfoy fascinates me?” Potter sounded unsure about this last statement, but Draco could feel his face heating up, all the same. He can’t mean it in the way Draco would like him too.   
“I find him...easy to look at.”

Weasley’s gaping face was priceless. If only Draco had a camera on him he would have snapped a picture and had a few laughs with Blaise later. 

Draco really didn’t know what to make of Potter’s statements and decided to just stay quiet and let the three Gryffindors sort themselves out. Granger seemed to want what Potter wanted. Siding with him and trusting in Draco’s ability and changed nature. Weasley was more suspicious and Draco really wouldn't be offended. He had picked on the Weasleys his entire Hogwarts life. He was awful to each of them who had the misfortune to attend at the same time as him. He’s just relieved that no one has thrown around the term Death Eater just yet. 

He wouldn’t mind Potter staying with them. They could talk and eat together. Draco had been lonely recently and would enjoy the opportunity to have quality time with another person. He’s trying to avoid thinking of his crush on the man before him. It would come to nothing. He said earlier that he’s a straight man, calm down Draco. You’re being utterly ridiculous for a man of your upbringing.

“I’m fine with it if Potter would like to stay with me.”

He barely realized that he had interrupted a fight between Granger and Weasley. Granger had stood from her chair, his pointer finger pointed directly at the space between Weasley’s eyes, who towered over her and glared down at his girlfriend in anger. Granger turned to him with a bright smile. 

“I think that would work just fine, thank you Malfoy.”

“Cool. It’s settled then. Could you hand me a vial of your potion Malfoy? I think I’ll just sleep this evening.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Just one question, if I may, Potter. How do you feel about cats?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reaidng! Please leave a comment if you have anything to say, I absolutely love reading and responding! And if you like my work please leave a kudo! Until next time~  
> Justrachael


	5. Sleeping in Your Enemy's bed...and Other Assorted Hits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter and his works belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and definitely not me!
> 
> Thanks for coming back for round 5~

“This is absolutely bloody bonkers. Has he gone absolutely mental? I can’t believe Harry would want to stay with him instead of us, is he cursed?”

Ron isn’t taking this situation very well. Not that Hermione expected him too. She grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and swung their arms as they walk together down Diagon Alley. They had left Malfoy’s storefront/ apartment only a few minutes prior and Ron’s only just started working himself into an angry rant. She peered up at him and felt a shiver as she always did. She really loved him. Everything about him.

“Calm down, Ron. You know as well as I do that Harry’s capable of making his own decisions. We just need to support him and be there for him. I honestly think that this will all blow over.”

Ron sighed, swinging their hands more violently. “I just wish that Ginny hadn’t broken up with him. I talked to her about it but..”

“You talked to her about it? When? What did she say? Harry said it was about him not being an Auror but that seems so out of character for her.”

“Yeah, she said that it was mostly his aimlessness. She said he’s not happy and she can’t change that about him. And the nightmares were starting to be too much for her...I don’t know. I want to blame Ginny and yet I also know that I can’t. It’s all Hary. I just wish I had a guarantee that he’ll be okay. All of this nonsense with Malfoy...scared me ‘mione. He likes the git’s face? What does that even mean? He looks the same as always, a pointy faced bastard.”

“I agree for the most part. But remember, Harry’s the strongest person of all time. He can get through this. He can do anything, well, with my help. And also, I think it’s good for him to spend time outside of Grimmauld Place...He can’t live there anymore Ron. I can’t help but think about how long he crunched himself and hid in that disgusting cupboard. This could be really good for him. Don’t worry though, I plan to check up on him. Obsessively.”

She didn’t mention the whispered conversation that she had with their best friend right before they had reluctantly left the shop. Hermione had wanted to be there when Harry took the potion, but before she knew it both her and Ron were dismissed by Harry. Fortunately. Hermione didn’t think he was hiding anything from her, and was okay with leaving Harry behind with Malfoy. While hugging goodbye, Harry had said that Malfoy had never been a bad person, just a little too involved in unfortunate circumstances. And how could he not relate to that. Hermione had only whispered that she loves him. She wishes that she didn’t feel each of his ribs so distinctly.

Ron laughed, his cheeks pinkening with the emotion. “Do you want to get ice cream before we head home? I have to be up early tomorrow for drills but I want to have some fun today.”

“What kind of fun?” Hermione saw Ron’s eyes dilate and then his gaze dipped down to the opening of her shirt at her collarbone. 

“I think I would be up for whatever it is you’re thinking of. After the ice cream.”

Hermione let forth a burst of laughter and pulled her tall ginger boyfriend toward Fortescue's for some refreshing ice cream cones. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry peered at Malfoy over the rim of his teacup, watching as the other man carefully poured out the measured amount of amber swirled purple liquid for him to drink. He twisted the top on the original vial and handed Harry the smaller of the two.

“Drink this. All at once, no hesitation. It doesn’t necessarily taste bad, but it’s not exactly a treacle tart.”

Harry blinked. “How did you know that I love treacle tarts?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes and gestured impatiently to the vial. “I lived in the same castle as you, didn’t I? Or did I just dream all of that up?”

Harry grinned and tipped the vial back, swallowing swiftly and then gagging. “It tastes like the opposite of treacle tarts. Just bitter and sour at the same time. Ugh, Malfoy, disgusting!”

Malfoy gestured to the tea with a tilt of his eyebrow. After Harry went ahead and drink both his own cup and Malfoy’s cup of tea, he leaned back in the hardwood chair and made eye contact with the man across from him. 

“How long before this takes effect?”

“It’s not a sleep potion, necessarily. You shouldn’t have feelings of being more tired or have a strong urge to sleep. When you do sleep it will cause you to have a happy feeling. It is really just a mild potion. I made it in order to cultivate a more restful sleep. I think it could be useful.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Harry began to tap his hand against his knee. A little impatient. A little bored. A little apprehensive in how to act towards a person he had had little interaction with in the past five years, and in the time before that was mercilessly ridiculed. ‘And yet, this is all your idea, isn’t it? Maybe you’re just sleep deprived, but maybe not.’ Harry wonder why he was so forceful in trying to stay with Malfoy. After all, he knew that Hermione and Ron would take care of him. Oh, maybe that’s the answer. He doesn’t want to burden his best friends and making them care for him as if he was a child. Harry’s never been good with facing his insecurities. He is again captivated by Malfoy’s hands as they raise his teacup to his mouth and take a controlled sip of the earl grey. Malfoy’s not looking at him. Instead choosing to daze into space. 

Malfoy clears his throat. “Before we go up to my rooms I think I’d like to get something off my chest.”

Harry tilted his head in confusion.

Malfoy is fiddling with his cup and the movement is vastly more distracting than Harry could have ever guessed. What is it about his hands that Harry likes? How long they are? How pale they are that he can see each and every blue vein? How gracefully he moves them? 

“I wanted to approach you at the banquet, but then...I didn’t want to ruin your night. And instead of staying away we talked and I...retired early that night.”

Harry had a flashback of watching Malfoy’s quick walk out the door and wishing he would come back. “You seemed a bit sick that night. I thought it must have been me. I often bring out strong emotions in people, although not usually so negative, I must say.”

With a burst of energy, Malfoy stood, breathing heavily. “I apologize, Potter. For everything. Please understand me. I just want to live a peaceful life making potions and living with my cat.”

Malfoy practically was shouting at Harry while pleading desperating in his sudden burst of emotion. His teacup clattered to the table, his cheeks flashing red, and his hands entangled with the other, twisting and turning. 

“No, I..okay. I accept? You’ve apologized before and everything’s in the past anyway. You’re helping me now after all. I’m...so tired Malfoy. Do you have a bed?”

It was as if all of the energy had been drained from Malfoy’s body all at once and he drooped. His shoulders dropped, and he let out a long breath.

“Yes, absolutely. That’s a good idea. Please follow me, it’s just up these stairs in the back.”

“I have so many questions about why you moved out from Malfoy Manor, why you live alone, and what your relationship is with Blaise, but they will have to wait until morning. You see, I’m quite dead on my feet. It must have been at least a few weeks since I’ve had a restful night of sleep.”

Harry followed Malfoy up the small stair place and scarly had a second to observe the interior of his apartment, although what he saw of it was homey in decorations of decorative pillows with fun phrases stitched on, a cramped kitchen stuffed with muggle cooking devices, and a white cat in a curl in the corner.”

“Ah, this must be your roommate.” Harry approached the cat and she opened one eye to lazily eye him before falling back to sleep. He didn’t expect Malfoy to have such a fluffy kitten. Harry wonders if Malfoy even notices that their hair and fur is almost the same color. 

“Yes, that’s Lilac. You’ll be properly introduced in the morning. This room here has a bed.”

Harry walked into the room, shucked his outer clothes, leaving on the briefs, undershirt and socks and dived into the bed. If he had been looking, he would have noticed that Malfoy had taken one look, delicately blushed and averted his eyes. He normally would have been more self-conscious about his body. Especially if I he knew just how skinny he’d become over the past week and half. However, his body was screaming for sleep and the feeling of his body as it hit the silk sheets was almost orgasmic. 

“Well, I’ll leave you for the night. Please, let me know if you need anything. Goodnight.”  
“Malfoy wait!” Harry popped his head up from out of the muted grey covers, the bright green of his eyes illuminating the room. 

“Malfoy. Thank you, I may have forced myself on you, but you were really accommodating about everything. Sleep well.”

Malfoy nodded and left the room, softly closing the door behind him. 

After that, Harry doesn’t remember anything. Even his dreams. It was bliss. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Harry Potter is sleeping in his bed. In Draco Malfoy’s bed. Wow, what a day.

Draco is so emotionally tired that he can feel his mind shutting down as she walks away from his bed room and into the living room. But he knew that there was no chance he could sleep until he got some of his thoughts in order. Lilac lifts her head from her resting position to give him a fond glare. He returns it with one of his own. 

“Oh, Lilac, how much of an idiot am I? It’”- he checks the clock on his wall above the windowsill-”only six in the afternoon and I have the savior of the wizarding world in my bed as we speak. Well, as I speak to you. It would be a tad disconcerting to hear you talk at this point in our friendship after all.” Lilac stretched and softly licked her paw, her eyes still on Draco as if to say ‘I’m still listening Bitch.’ 

Draco reclines on his couch, grabs his blanket and wraps himself up in it. “I just wish I had the know hows for this situation. How does one convince Harry Potter how amazing he is, what his life means to so many people, and how genuinely nice he is as a person...without showing any personal attraction? It’s not exactly a secret that I have always physically admired Potter, and then also...emotionally as well, I guess I could add. But I don’t want the man himself to know. It would ruin any of this potential friendship between us. I apologized today for chrissake!”

Draco sighed, as lovely as it was, talking to a judgemental fluffy white cat, he’s not quite getting the camponship he would like out of this particular conversation. “I guess it’s not all your fault Lilac. I didn’t adopt you for your conversation skills, after all.” Lilac meowed at him and rolled over. “Ah, yes, you do vocalize quite well, my apologizes to you and your kind, Lilac.”

His fireplace erupted with a familiar dark complexion face in it’s embers.

Draco slid from his comfortable couch, still wrapped up in his blanket and kneels down, mindful of the flames and of the cat hair that littered the floor getting on his recently pressed trousers. 

“Blaise, hello. How are you this evening?”

Blaise squinted at his best friend.

“Why do you seem so peaky? Has something happened? I knew I should have followed you when you scurried your little ass away from the ministry banquet.”

Draco sighed. Blaise tends to be a little too knowing, and much too dramatic. They’ve known each other since they were much too young. Which makes Blaise one of two people who can read his facial expressions correctly on the first try. 

“Today’s been a more unique day in the story of my life. However, I am not at liberty to tell you much of it.”

He does wish he could confide in Blaise, and if it were any other man, he would have. However, Potter threatened him in a sexy but terrifying way and Draco was not about to test the waters on that one. Not to mention that he wants to show that he’s trustworthy, deep down. 

Blaisee smirked. “Well, that does sound delicious. And why are you keeping secrets from good ‘ole Blaise, my boy?”

“It doesn't concern just me. Someone universally important is really at the helm of my...interesting day. And they could kill me, I’m sure, if I let it slip.”

“Huh. Based on your impression, I had thought that I was going to get a sexy story, not some political intrigue. You’re flushed, darling. Quite debacled. And yet today has nothing to do with my lovely Draco’s virginity?”

Draco gasped in outrage. “Absolutely not Blaise! Don’t be beyond ridiculous! Today was merely a ...potion experiment! And you remember well enough that I asked you to rid me of it ten years ago and you said no!”

“Well, I am a straight man, after all. Not my expertise, deflowering beautiful Slytherin boys, is it?”

“Ugh, you disgust me. Also, you did take me as your date to that ministry banquet. Is there something you are hiding, Blaise?”

Blaise wagged his pointer finger back and forth. “Uh, uh Draco, silly boy. I know that you are stunning, you are also my best friend. I have no problems bringing you as my date anywhere. Just don’t ask me to fiddle with your...little snake afterwards. And you know that you find me charming and loyal to you on your quest to being the most boring former Death Eater known to man.”

Draco couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that one. “I just want some peace and quiet in my life. I like having no expectations on me, running my own shop, taking my own hours. It makes me feel free.”

Blaise’s eyes softened, as they often do when he hears vulnerability from Draco. “I’m so happy for you. I love you, I’m so happy you’re happy. And whatever happened today to put that face on your face, I think you should keep doing it. You put yourself down too much and take things too seriously. This fire call was primarily meant to be a check up on your after you ran away at the banquet, but you seem quite glowy”-

'You would as well if you had HARRY FUCKING POTTER lying in your bed, with his almost bare body lying on the soft sheets that you lied in last night...maybe he can smell you …' Draco's thoughts are as messy as Harry Potter's hair nd completely tuned out most of what was probably a lovely peptalk.

-” and so, it seems you’re just fine and I worried for nothing. Do you still want to see the play on Saturday? I would take Pansy but she’s not much for classics, and you reek of it, on a good day.”

“I would like that, Blaise.”

“Until next time, my little dragon.”

And Blaise’s smiling, handsome face disappeared from the magic embers. 

Draco scurried back to his couch and sunk into the cushions. This is his bed for the night, anyway, might as well get comfortable and settle in. What should he make for breakfast tomorrow? Does Potter like pancakes? Sausage? Should he just go with a good English breakfast? Or maybe he’s a cereal man? Draco’s not so sure that he has cereal, but hopes that he can please him somehow...with his cooking. 

Draco slips off and his dreams seemed to star the man snoring in his bed. For the millionth time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy my little story :)  
> -justrachael


	6. What do you like for breakfast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers own everything related To Harry Potter! 
> 
> I am only having a bit of fun.

Harry slowly opens his eyes, blinks at the white wall in front of him, rolls over and goes back to sleep. 

Harry slowly opens his eyes, blinks at the white pillow he’s cuddling, squeezes it to his chest, and goes back to sleep.

Harry slowly opens his eyes, blinks at nothing, in particular, smells the scent of food, and finally wakes up from a nice, restful sleep.

He sits up, his muscles are a tad sore, especially in his arms and legs and he rubbed them down, a little annoyed. Harry’s head is still in a slight daze, all wide eyes, and yawning mouth. And yet, his head feels clear headed for the first time in...could it be years? He must have felt good when he was sleeping with Ginny. He had nightmares off and on, of course, he did, he’s Harry Potter, and yet, sleeping in the same bed had helped at moments. Although the guilt he felt from disturbing Ginny’s sleep had also been real, and not pleasant. She’s a fiery person and doesn’t take well to someone interrupting her sleep, especially when it’s a few nights out of the week, for years. 

Suddenly, Harry’s eyes explore the room and he realizes where he is and where he slept last night. At Malfoy’s place. After drinking his experimental potion. And demanding that he stay with him...And threatening his life…

Harry slaps his face in sudden embarrassment. He couldn’t remember if he took off his clothes in front of Malfoy or not. Please let him have had the sense to let the man leave the room before getting an eyeful of Harry’s awkward, gangly body covered in scars. He released a soft moan as he remembered how patient and calm Malfoy was even though yesterday must have been quite a shock to him. Having his childhood rival show up out of nowhere and threaten his life for a solution to something that isn’t even his problem to begin with? 

He’s mortified. Could Harry stay in the comfort of this bed forever? Just lay here and ponder his own mortality. Malfoy will just have to use the rest of his apartment without this one room, that’s all. Not at all an inconvenience to the man...he’ll barely miss it. Harry didn’t see much of the apartment yesterday, to his knowledge, but he’s sure that there are at least a few more rooms. 

But what if the cat gets sad...what if this is the cat’s room? Oh no...the cat was pretty cute, Harry wouldn’t want to kick her out of her space or anything…

Oh, Harry really has the need to pee. He makes himself stand up, a little wobbly on his feet, grabs his glasses from the bedside table, and shuffles over to the bathroom. This is obviously the guest bed and bath. Everything is immaculately clean and organized. Not a speck of dust, or personality. After peeing and using the toothbrush left out on the corner next to a tube of toothpaste. They were obviously laid out for him because they weren’t in a toothbrush holder and there wasn’t any toothpaste left on the handle of the toothbrush. Harry was almost an Auror, so he prides himself on being pretty observant. Especially with his clear mind. 

He feels like he can do anything. Well, except go outside this room and face Malfoy.  
Harry’s about to lay back down when he hears a timid knock on the door.

‘Oh, kill me now. Just kill me again. Take me away on the train into the void Dumbledore, please, fuck.’ Harry scrambled for his t-shirt and pulls it on over his mess of curls.

The door opened just a smidge and part of Malfoy’s pretty face was in view.

“Can I...come in? I heard the water running, and uh..” Harry watched a blush blossom on Malfoy’s face. It’s pretty...alluring? Attractive? Well, obviously, on a woman it would be more attractive. That goes without saying. Harry really didn’t need to contemplate it that hard.

He cleared his throat. “Of course, yeah.”

Malfoy stepped into the room. He looked so uncomfortable. His back was ramrod straight, and his hands, oh yeah Harry forgot that he had a thing for Malfoy’s hands ‘let’s table that thought for now,’ clasped together in front of him.

“You must be really hungry, you’ve been out for a while. How do you feel?”

Harry assessed his body and found that he was, indeed, ravenous.  
“I could definitely eat something. Uh, maybe I could use your kitchen? Otherwise, I feel...well. Really well. Another night like last night and I feel like I could run a marathon.”

“I..well, I cooked some breakfast. For you. If you want to. Eat it.” Malfoy’s gaze slowly drifted away as he grew more embarrassed. Should Harry find that charming? Probably, not, right?

“And I really hope you don’t sleep through two days again so soon. I was worried, I had to call Granger and have her come over to check your vitals. I’m afraid she’s not a fan of mine at the moment.”

“Wait, what? Two...days?” Harry was dumbfounded. He slept through two days. He’s never done that. Yes, he’s not exactly employed but he does make appearances quite often to the ministry, to the charities that he’s founded and supports, an orphanage that he likes to go to and play with children. Hold babies and smell their unique and calming scent. 

“Yes. Two days. Come on out and eat some pancakes. I also made oatmeal. Scrambled some eggs, and uh, banger and mash. A few tomatoes...and then you know, I was thinking, ‘Potter really likes treacle tart, perhaps as a breakfast item?’ so I also have that...uh..why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry closed his mouth. “Malfoy, can you cook? Actual food? In a pot? Or pan?”

“I do...enjoy cooking. I suppose. It’s a bit like potions. And tastes a bit better.” Malfoy’s blinking a mile a minute.

Harry tilted his head. “Huh. I never once thought of cooking as similar to potion making. And yes to everything before. I’ll eat everything. I could even eat one of Hagrid’s pies at this point.”

Malfoy wrinkled his nose at the thought. “I, ah, also have cereal. A few different brands. Oh, with milk. I just wasn’t sure what you’d want.” Malfoy paused. “Perhaps I have too much food.”

Harry couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Not at all. I’ll eat it. Now, could you leave for a second? I want to get my pants on but they’re over there, and you don’t want to see my underwear, I’m guessing?”

Ah, and the blush is back in full force, how satisfying. He calmly watched as Malfoy stuttered and quickly backed out of the room, paused, and then closed the door. 

Harry really is very hungry. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘That was just peachy. Such a fuck-up Draco.’ He would start to bash his head against the wall if he didn’t know that Harry would hear and start to question his sanity even more.

With a sigh and a slight limp, he walked over the counter and arranged his..breakfast feast. He sprinkled some pepper on the omelets he lovingly folded and spruced up Harry’s plate by wiping away some of the excess sauce from the sausages. 

He’s trying too hard. He knows he is. This is a crazy amount of effort and food for just two...people ‘friends..?’...’former classmates..?’ ‘...the apple of his eye…?’ Blaise has stayed over a few times and Draco had made himself an omelet and told Blaise to “fuck off, you absolute berk, go buy your own food, don’t eat mine.” For Harry Potter, he went out last night and bought some cereal...two different kinds.

He met Lilac’s eyes and could swear she found him less than worthy as her time as she flicked her tail and wandered away. Well, that’s that. He can’t even argue. He’s being such a nutter just because he has a man over at his house. Well, an attractive man. More than that...it’s Harry Potter. Goodness.

He put the plates on the table just as Harry exited his bedroom. Harry is a handsome man on every occasion, but a restful sleep really put the lights back in his eyes and his smile was the same boyish, charming tilt of the lips that Draco remembers from school. 

“I feel really good. Your potion must really work wonders, Malfoy.” Draco watched as Potter reached up and scratched his taut belly.

Yes, I do believe that you would feel really good.

Draco shook his head. Maybe it’s just the wrackspurts that Luna has written to say he has.

“I’m so glad. Sincerely.” 

Draco gestured to the food spread out across his small table with a wave of his hands and with a smile Harry sat down and dug in.

Draco sat down across from him and picked up his fork about to eat the omelet he had made for himself. He’s partial to mushrooms and onions in his.

When he heard a moan, he stopped chewing, his gaze flicked upwards towards the man across from him.

“This is so good. How did you learn how to cook when you grew up with house elves?” 

Draco was amazed that he understood Potter so well when he spoke with his mouth full of sausage. Must be because that was typically how he talked when in school. Stuffing his mouth full every meal and never pausing, even when he was conversing with others. He should have been disgusted by the sight of Potter’s table manner, and a part of him was still, but he also couldn’t ever find him revolting in any sense of the word. Although he would prefer Potter chew his food before speaking, as a general rule…

Draco wiped his mouth with the napkin by his plate before answering. “House elves did the cooking and cleaning when I was growing up at the manner. I didn’t cook before I moved in here. It took a long time to purchase the items, and figure out how to work the machines, but once I did, I realized that I could together any food that I want. It’s fun for me to make and eat the food that I make. I’m glad that you like it.” 

Just a few minutes before, Draco had thought that he had made too much food, but watching Potter gulf down every morsel in front of him made him think that he could have made double the amount.

There was a knock on his door, the storefront. It was only a little after seven in the morning on a Tuesday morning, it could only be one person. Draco went downstairs to collect Hermione Granger and bring her up to his apartment. 

Her glare and silent treatment at the sight of him was a tad discomforting for Draco, but the look on her face when she spotted how healthy Harry looked was miraculous.  
“Oh, Harry! Look at you! How are you feeling? Any nausea?”

Hermione went around the small table and sat down in Draco’s chair. He had little to no choice and decided to lean against the wall munching on some bacon in while he watched the two best friends. He felt the twinge in his left leg but ignored it, softly rubbing the fabric. 

“None at all, Hermione. I feel really great! No nightmares! Did I really sleep for two days? Malfoy mentioned that you came over.” 

Hermione selected a pancake on Draco’s plate and began eating it. “Yes, well. That is quite great. Although I should say, I was not at all pleased with how Malfoy took care of you during your stay. You really would have been better off with Ron and I. Malfoy was a right mess when he asked me to come to check up on you yesterday. Your vitals were fine, so I’m assuming you were just that tired.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement and then abruptly stilled and blinked. 

“Hermione, this is all Malfoy’s food you’re eating. He was having breakfast...He made all of this. You’re being quite rude.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, that is very rude of me.” The pancake piece she had been lifting to her mouth fell back on the plate with an unfortunate mushy sound. “Although it’s not as if Malfoy doesn’t have the money to order more food. He did invite me over for breakfast after all.”

'I most certainly did not...You just said that’s when you were coming to check on Harry…'

Potter turned his head to look inquisitively at Malfoy, who shrugged in return.

“Well, Malfoy, at least come over and eat more food. It’s very good.”

Malfoy tried hard to conceal his limp, but sleeping on the couch and standing for a while was only making it more and more pronounced. 

Potter didn’t notice, as focused on the food as he was, but Granger certainly did.

“Malfoy, did you hurt your leg recently?”

“Ah, no, this is a flame up of an old injury.”

Potter looked over at him with the tilt of his head. “I don’t remember you ever hurting your leg.”

It should have been a strange comment to hear, but Draco knew that he had his own mental catalog of all of the injuries Potter sustained in school as well. It was just something they did, it seemed. Remember each other.

“I’m afraid it’s a war injury. But please don’t worry. It’s usually not so bad, but the last few nights have been a bit rougher on me, after all.”

Both Potter and Granger looked at him, curious. “Why would the last two nights have been hard on you Malfoy? Do you also have trouble sleeping? It’s not unusual with whatever had occurred with you and Voldemort staying at your house, or with your parents and all.” Hermione had decided to impart her wisdom on them both, it seemed. 

“No, no, you see. I only have the one bed, so I didn’t find the couch quite as comfortable. As for the nature of my leg’s problems...I would rather not talk about it. Please, continue eating before the food gets too cold.”

Draco rubbed his leg in an unconscious gesture as he watched the two best friends make eye contact over the breakfast he had made. 

Harry spoke first, contritely.”I had no idea that I took your bed Malfoy. I’m truly sorry about that. I had just assumed that you had given me your guest room...after all, in the bathroom..!” He suddenly shut his mouth with a blush and pursued his lips.

“Well...regardless. You should be pleased that you have your bed back to yourself, Malfoy. And I’m so happy that potion worked for you, Harry. Truly. Are you going back to Grimmauld’s after breakfast?”

Harry’s bright expression dimmed in response. “Yes...I suppose I have to, won’t I? I don’t think Malfoy would enjoy me as his permanent roommate.” He laughed and yet Draco can’t imagine what he would say if only he knew that he would like it if Potter stayed. Although, it's for the best that he leaves. Pining after someone impossible is not a good look on him. 

“And I must be off to the ministry, of course. Goodbye, the both of you. Malfoy, good work with your potion, I believe it will sell quite well! And Harry, do fire call me tonight, please? I’d like a quick look-see on how you’d been on your first day awake after taking Malfoy’s potion.”

And then she left Draco’s apartment and storefront. Draco knew that she was a bit bossy and pragmatic, but maybe she's grown ever more so with time?

In the wake of Granger’s departure, Potter looked speculatively at Draco.

“You must have to work today, don’t you, Malfoy?”

“Yes. I work every day. I need to continuously stock my potions, and so I usually keep the store open while I brew.” Potter marginally wilted. “I see. In that case, I had better be going. Thank you for all of your work Malfoy. You were a big help. I was acting a bit strangely yesterday..or I guess, a few days ago? I'm sorry if I went too far with my threats. I like to believe that it's unlike me to boss people around and make assumptions.”

“Potter, if you don’t mind...taking my potion is not going to stop all of your problems. Please consider some more lasting forms of help, such as Mind Healers. You seemed quite out of sorts..perhaps, depressed?”

Potter rolled his eyes. “I feel so great right now. Better than I have in years. Better, even, than after sex. There’s no need to worry about all that. Your potion practically cured me.”

And with that statement, watched as Potter finished off the stack of pancakes, pulled on a sweatshirt and with a slight wave, left his apartment.

With a sigh and a bit of reluctance from his bad leg, Draco stood and began to clear the table. He made eye contact with Lilac, who had been curled up in her usual haunt, the area under the living room table and spoke to her. “It was a little fun, wasn’t it? To have something interesting happen? Now, things will go back to normal. You’re not likely to see anyone up here but Blaise and I. I hope you’re not too disappointed, Lilac. 

Lilac swished her tail, and Draco set about cleaning his kitchen clean from the mess, food, and lingering memories. "Ah, I forgot to give him the treacle tart..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> And I love the comments and Kudos that I have been receiving, they mean the world to me!  
> <3 justrachael


	7. Following the Spiders..All the Way Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers own Harry Potter! Not me! Nope, not over here!

“Hey, you. Ms. Know-it-all, are you here to see me?” Ron gave his girlfriend a sweet kiss and then wrapped his long arms around her. They were in the privacy of his office, and sometimes Hermione likes to come over on her lunch break to give him new or just to say hi.

“Yes, I am. Oh, I just love you in your Auror uniform, Ron.” She slid her hands down his auburn robes with golden fastenings in a seductive manner.

“I know you do, you tell me often enough.” He grinned at her, delighted.

After another quick kiss, she stepped back and took the seat in front of his desk; he sat in his own chair, behind the wide oak desk. 

“Have you heard from Harry in the past few days?” 

Ron frowned. He wondered when hearing his best friend’s name instantly made him anxious and worried for him.

“You know I haven’t...if I had, I would have told you. You don’t think that we should go over then, should we?”

Hermione, frowned, contemplative. “It’s been almost three days since he fired called me after the Malfoy Potion Incident. I know he should be perfectly capable of handling himself and his own affairs, but I worry about the possibility of self-harm. It would absolutely kill me. His sleep deprivation was so extreme last time, Ron.” He hated seeing tears in Hermione’s eyes. It made him sick to his stomach. 

Ron couldn’t help the sigh that forced itself through him. All he wanted was a relatively happy existence. He loved his job, loved his girlfriend, and his best mate, who had saved the godforsaken wizarding world from destruction was depressed. He feels so guilty and useless. 

“Maybe we should bring him more of Malfoy’s potion? Could that help?”

Hermione tut-tutted. “It would surely depend on what state he’s in. We’re being horrible people assuming that he might be in the same state as the last few times...in that dirty cupboard, alone and shivering...maybe screaming.

Ron paled underneath his freckles and exchanged decisive glances with Hermione.

“Right, then. We’ll go first thing after work. You get back to your paperwork, and I’ll get back to mine...I suppose.” Ron gave a derisive glare at the growing state of memos that have flown into his office in the last half hour. 

“Yes, I agree. I’ll see you then, Ron.”

He smiled at her, and then turned his mind to matters of the wizarding law enforcement. People other than Harry depends and relies on him, and he needs to remember that. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry’s cold. Again. He’s rubbing his hands together, scrunching up his body. Where’s his blanket? Underneath his back is something hard and unforgiving. He stretches and hits his head against the wall. He scrunches back up, rubbing his head, and finally opens his eyes. 

Where is he? It’s pitch black. Harry reaches out a hand and sees a small spider scuttle across it. 

Ah, this is a familiar feeling. Follow the spiders? But where will they lead me this time? Home? 

The place he lived for the longest time was Number four Privet Drive. But no, the Dursleys hate me. They can’t look at me. Even when they’re stuffing their faces with food cooking from my prepubescent hands and scolding me, spit flying, name calling, verbal punching bad...physical punching bad...Harry can see the disgust in their eyes...

Then where’s home..his first home? Godric’s Hollow. Can’t be...No home is there. His home was murdered there. His young parents, killed in their own home...

Where he first found himself...Hogwarts. But no matter how wonderful the memories from his youth at Hogwarts is, it is not home. He killed there. Right in front of the school he learned, formed friendships, discovered himself as a person and a pawn in a game bigger than himself. He was a key player, though, one could say…

His current residence is Grimmauld place...Harry shivers. Ah, that’s where he is. At Sirius’. But he’s not here. He’ll never be here again. He’s dead. Just like all of them. Just like everyone who died around him, the blood is coating is hands, face, and heart. 

There was a place where he felt at peace...please, let me come back..please, take me back...the pancakes...white cat...silver eyes…

“Harry, please! Please!” He hears sobbing, and then a sudden flash of pain to his face.

His eyes flash open, and he immediately recognizes the heaving mess of red and brown peering down at him.

“Pull him out! Pull him out of there! I’m DONE! DONE! I AM SEALING UP THIS DAMN CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS!”

Hermione is screaming nonsense while Ron carefully grabs Harry by the shoulders and maneuvers him out of the too small area. Ron has always had such a gentle touch with Harry. 

Harry sits with his back against the staircase, Ron is kneeling at his right, and Hermione is pacing in front of him.

Ron hands him a handkerchief that was in an Auror uniform. “Don’t let the sweat stay on your face, mate, you’ll get sick.” Harry let out a small snicker at that. Like he isn’t already as sick in the head as they come. But he wipes his forehead, surprised at the shaking in his hand and the amount of sweat build up. He could have sworn that he had woken up at one point...there was a spider, right?

“HARRY, WHY? WHY MUST YOU DO THIS? WHY SLEEP IN THIS HORRIBLE CUPBOARD? IT’S NOT HEALTHY!” Hermione’s eyes are wild and she’s yelling, out of control. She must have realized that even she can’t fix him. Even the smartest witch in all of the world, to Harry’s mind, finds him an impossible puzzle. The curse of Harry Potter. They must have gotten his nickname wrong. Not ‘The Chosen One,’ but ‘The Cursed One.’ Harry idly wonders if they’ll do a Prophet reprint of his life once they hear the news...

The two must have just come from work if Hermione’s smart suit and reasonable heels and Ron’s uniform are any indications. He just wishes Hermione would stop screaming at him. He also wishes he was wearing more than a t-shirt and boxers. It’s so cold.

Ron stood up and cornered the witch against the wall. Harry could hear his low tone and whispered words. 

“Stop. You need to stop yelling. Our best friend needs us, and you need to snap out of it. Do you understand me?”

Hermione is trying to catch her breath, tears making ugly lines down her pretty face. 

“I had to slap him, Ron. He wasn’t waking up. He wasn’t moving. What do we do? What do I do? I don’t have the answers! I just want Harry back!” And on the last word, Hermione melted against Ron’s chest with a sob, who cradled her head against his breastbone. 

Harry felt as if he was watching a movie. Oddly detached. He’s rubbing the handkerchief against his leg, the tactile feeling is nice. 

Ron released Hermione go and turned back to Harry. His eyes were sadder than Harry has seen in a long time. 

“It didn’t work Harry. The potion didn’t work. We need to go see Malfoy and make him fix the potion so that you’ll feel better. It’s the only solution.

“It did work though...I felt so good that morning..I slept for days, Ron. The potion worked. It just wore off. I need more of the potion.”

Hermione chimed in from her position,. She was leaning heavily against the wall, quietly sobbing. “Yes, that’s right. We’re magical right? Some potions will make you better, Harry. That’s it, exactly. You don’t need therapy. That’s for muggles. I was so stupid…so very stupid.”

Harry knew something about that statement was wrong. Very wrong, not Hermione...but he was so tired, and he wanted a magical potion to cure him so badly.

“Okay then. We’re going. Accio, Harry’s pants!” A pair of Harry’s numerous grey sweatpants flew over to Ron’s hand who handed the pair of old pants to Harry. He helped Harry get up and then acted as support as Harry put one leg into one hole, and then the other.

Harry handed Hermione Ron’s handkerchief and watched for a second as she wiped the mascara lines from her face. The splotchy red wasn’t as easily erased.

“Where are we going, Ron? I don’t need to leave Grimmauld. I just need to rest a little.”

Harry felt a little nervous leaving the old ancestral home. It was bestowed upon him at a young age, and it’s his only connection to Sirius. No blood, no genes, just this old, depressing home, full of nightmares. 

“No, if I had my way, you’d never be coming back here. We’re going to Malfoy’s place. He’ll fix you. I’ll make him. This time it’d better last.”

Ron face was absolute and resolute as he wrapped one arm around Hermione and Harry each, escorted them from Grimmauld into the apparition point and announced, “Hold on, the both of you.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco ringing up the purchase of an elderly man with chronic arthritis, there is a potion to help with the pain and has shown in studies to slightly revert some of the damage on joints with time, when the door of his shop burst open.

The elderly man was almost blown back by the force, and would have been if he hadn’t grabbed the counter with both hands.

Draco immediately rounded the counter and stepped towards the door. He instinctively reached for his wand, which wasn’t in his pocket. Draco hadn’t carried it around in years. He is only permitted to use the most rudimentary of spells and performs every so often, but there would be no match in a duel. 

He recognized these people, the golden trio and yet something seems wrong with this picture…

“Merlin! That’s Harry Potter, ain’t it? Well, slap my bottom and truss me up!” Draco had forgotten about the elderly man in his haste for action. 

“Malfoy, please join us in your potions as soon as possible.” The Weasley mumbled at him while tugging the other two people into the back of Draco’s shop. 

Draco swallowed, confused and alarmed. He had never expected to see Harry Potter again so soon. He was thinking in the next five years, at a banquet or party he could go up to the man with a casual greeting, but it seems as if the fates have something else in mind for him. 

“I’m sorry for the interruption, sir. Today will be five shillings.” Draco is painstakingly trying to form his professional mask back onto his features but he’s sure that it is convincing.

“Oh, golly, are you friends with Mr. Harry Potter, potions master? He is such an amazing boy to have done everything that he did. I heard that he made He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named blow up into a million pieces and then throw them into a waiting crowd like confetti!” He handed over the asked amount with a glint in his eye.

“Ahhh, indeed.” What an amusing picture that would have been. Much unlike the very mortal death, Voldemort had had. 

“I’m afraid it wasn’t quite the same. Although the intention was there, let me assure you.”

“Ah, well, thank you for this,” He raised the vial in his hand, and with a wink and a “give my regards to Mr. Harry Potter then” left Draco’s shop with the light sounds of his shop bells.

Draco took a deep breath. He is quite unprepared to confront the golden trio today. Well, he would be quite unprepared to meet them any day of the week. 

He smoothed down his shirt, even though it was already wrinkle-free, and entered the room full of Gryffindors. 

He could tell that something chaotic had happened. Granger’s face was red and the remnants of tears lingered on her cheeks, Weasley was uncharacteristically stoic, and Potter...looked as if he was in shock.

“I do believe that you mistake me as a Healer. Potter needs medical attention. He needs to be transported to St. Mungo’s.”

Potter’s eyes flashed with contempt. “Don’t you dare talk about me as if I was an item needing mending. I have had enough of being less than a person from my childhood. And I won’t be leaving this place. I just need to be here. I feel calm here. Would it be so bad to let me stay for a few days, Malfoy?”

Draco swallowed. “You can’t stay with me. This is my home. I will give you my remaining vial of Fondness potion and recommend that you visit somewhere where they will give you the medical assistance that you need, but it won’t be here. I need...quiet. You are disturbing my life!”

Can’t they see that Draco can’t be around Potter? If Potter is there, they’ll see the hearts in his eyes...they’ll see the unwanted devotion...He can’t let anyone know where his heart resides. It’s his final peace of pride. 

Weasley stepped forward. “How could you speak to him like this? He saved your worthless life more times than I can count! More times than I would have, you piece of scum.” 

Draco took a step back, his body shaking, heaving. He could feel his face heating, his heart racing. In a burst of movement, he crossed the room, grabbed the purple vial and thrust it into Potter’s hand.

“Please leave. Please leave. Please leave, and don’t come back. I can’t...i can’t take it. You don’t realize the effect on me...I am a piece of scum Death Eater. It is my fault that the greatest wizard who ever lived died that night on the Astronomy Tower...please just…”-Draco drops to his knees in front of Potter, who is regarding him with a vague expression- “don’t come near me again.”

He put his face in his hands, humiliated by the force of his own emotions, and the cowardly demeanor expressed by his own body language. Kneeling in front of the only person he’s ever loved, gently weeping into his palms.

He feels a stirring in his hair as if he was stroked.

“Your hair is such a lovely color...and texture…”

Potter is mumbling nonsense and Draco is frozen by his touch. 

Harry reached down and pried the vial from Draco’s hands. 

“Your hands are really your winning features Malfoy.”

He popped the cork and took a small sip. Draco watched in a daze as Potter turned to his gobsmacked friends with a tilt of his head and said, “Ron, Hermione, you two can leave, you seem exhausted and you have work in the morning. Malfoy’ll take good care of me.”

Weasley was shaking his head before Potter finished speaking. “He asked us to leave, this is his store. You can stay with us, Harry. It’s not a problem.”

Draco watched as Potter seemed to think this through.

He turned back to Draco.

“I really can’t stay with you? I like your apartment. I'll pay if you want.”

Draco shook his head. “It doesn't really matter, all that. I only have the one bed, remember?”

Draco couldn't exactly spit out the truth, could he? 'I'm in love with you but I also have horrible guilt. Please stay away from me.' Draco has a feeling that it wouldn't go over very well. 

Potter blinked at him. “I could never kick you out of your own bed again. We’ll share it.”

Draco blinked back at him. "Absolutely not. That would bother me."

Potter released a sigh. "Ah, yes. It would be a little awkward what with your hatred in the past and us being two men. It was a silly suggestion, I'm sorry for making it."

"Yes, the two men part...I'm gay Potter. Sleeping in the same bed as you would arouse me, and I can't have that happen."

With a rush of adrenaline and ignoring the disbelieving looks and dropped jaws from the three people in his potion making room, Draco retreated from the room, ascended the stairs, grabbed Lilac, and sped towards the fireplace.

"We are leaving here before I explode, even more, Lilac. I'm afraid my even temperament has left me."

Draco can't help but wonder what Potter is thinking right now. He looks down at his hands. They honestly seem quite ordinary to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a more difficult chapter and I'm not so sure that I truly captured what I wanted :/ but thanks for being along for the ride.


	8. Surprise Appearances and Comforting Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers own everything. None to me! Nope! Nada!

Harry stared down at his own hands, darker in color than Draco’s. Less long. Not elegant in the least. No one was going to start writing poetry dedicated to his hands, and yet, Harry could well imagine someone more eloquent than himself writing the most lovely words in dedication to the Slytherin’s hands. 

“I mean, we already knew he was gay. It was a rumor. But a really well believed one.” Ron was running his hand through his hair, flummoxed. 

“Yes..but we didn’t know that he was attracted to Harry..or even, had feelings for Harry?”

Hermione seemed to step out of her depressed state of mind at the presence of an intellectual curiosity. 

Harry sighed, rubbing his hands together. He could already feel the potion taking effect on him. He felt more calm, more like himself. He wouldn’t say half the things that he has been lately if he wasn’t so out of sorts. At least, he hopes not.

“He probably doesn’t have romantic feelings for me. I think he wanted to shock me into not staying with him. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue so hard...I don’t know where my mind goes lately.”

“He could have feelings for you. You’re a great guy, everyone should have every good feeling for you. Well, Hermione can skip out on the romantic ones, if you don’t mind.”

Hermione swayed into Ron, laying her arm and shoulder and against his in a teasing fashion.

“I don’t mind if you have romantic feelings for Harry.” 

Ron laughed. “If I did, I’m afraid I would have acted on them by now. Plenty of opportunity, yeah?”

Harry snorted, sharing an expression of mutual understanding with Harry.

“He knows I’m not gay...and I already pretty much knew that he’s gay, and yet he ran away like a scared little child...I’m pretty surprised by that reaction. We’re all adults. In what world would we be actively crazed by him being gay? The only thing is...him being aroused by me in bed...is interesting.”

Hermione looked at Harry with intentful eyes. “Harry, have you ever been attracted to men?”

Harry blinked. “Not in a sexual or romantic way, don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you think that I’d know by now if I were gay? I’ve had sex with only women, and more than liked it. So, don’t go about trying to analyze me!”

Ron also started to look at Harry contemplatively. “You know, you did always go on about Bill’s looks, or even Sirius at times.”

“Don’t be disgusting, Ron! And Bill is definitely an objectively handsome man. There’s nothing wrong with me thinking that. It’s not like it’s much of a secret that Fleur is gorgeous, right? I feel like even the most straight of women would agree with that.”

Hermione was nodding her head. “I wouldn’t even call myself the most straight of women, and yet I agree with you.”

Ron gave Hermione a heated look that lasted a tad too long for Harry’s sensibilities, and then turned back to Harry. 

“This honestly doesn’t matter right now. I’m embarrassed for the guy, and he’ll have to get over himself and when you see him again, try not to give him a hard time about all of this. He literally ran away from us. Probably in tears.”-Ron pauses mid thought.-” Wait, he’s Malfoy, I don’t know how I completely forgot, you can definitely give him a hard time about anything.”- He tilts his head, obviously thinking harder than he’s used to. -”Well, sexuality is a sensitive topic and he obviously can’t even have a talk about it without running away so maybe save the hard time. Oi, why are you laughing? Ah, hard times...okay. Keep your hard time away from the blonde Slytherin, okay, Harry?” Ron watched with laughing eyes as his girlfriend and best friend laugh and laugh until they are clutches their faces with red faces. 

“I’m sure that won’t be problem. He’s good looking, obviously, and he a certain attractiveness to him, but no, I’m still...straight. You don’t just change that. You don’t need to protect Malfoy from me, Ron. Wow, what a statement.” Harry chuckled in disbelief.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. To Harry it seemed as if they were saying ‘Does Harry realize that he’s crazy?’ Which Harry immediately took offense to.

“Hey! What was that look for?”

Ron nodded at Hermione for her to speak. “Well, Harry, Malfoy’s not exactly overflowing with good looks. I mean, he’s not classically handsome. He has a pointy chin, a strict demeanor...I mean his hair blends in too much with his face. He’s not ugly by any means, but not I think ‘obviously good-looking.’” 

Harry blinked. “That’s so strange. He’s always been really good looking? Sure, the pointy chin, I agree. But his face has a good shape, his eyes are a silver color, his hair is, I can assure you, very soft...Maybe you’re too busy looking at Ron’s face, eh, Hermione?”

Hermione begins to say something, opening her mouth, and then closing it, pursing her lips.

“Hmmm, okay.”

“Anyway, I think I’m going to go ahead and get some rest. I really wish I could stay here. I honestly can’t remember when I last slept so well. Maybe since Hogwarts...” Harry looks longingly at the door, where he knew the staircase lay behind it. “But I wouldn’t hurt Malfoy like that...although you two really don’t have the time or space for me.”

Hermione put on her ‘convince Harry face.’ “Harry, it really is in your best interest to stay with us. We are the only ones with your best interests at heart.”

Ron blinked at that statement. “Well, that’s not entirely true...Let’s think, who else could take Harry in for a few days for him to TRULY recover this time…”

“Well, Ginny’s obviously not an option…”

“George just had his second child…”

“Sean and Dean just moved to Ireland a month ago…”

“Neville lives at Hogwarts...not sure if he’s supposed to have prolonged guests…”

The door opened and behind it was a young woman, long blonde hair flowing down her back, her large sparkly glasses balanced on her head, and a dreamy expression on her face. Time has not changed much of Luna Lovegood, not that Harry would want it to.

“I was expecting to see Draco about my latest potion shipment and yet I find the three of you. How have you been?” She stared at Harry for an awkward moment while Ron and Hermione answered that they were doing ‘quite well.’ 

“Ah, Harry. The nargels have gotten a hold of you have they? I really should get them out; it could be bad for your health for them to in your aura all day long, you see?”

Hermione, Ron and Hermione exchanged a ‘why not’ look featuring mock frowns and raised eyebrows.

“Actually Luna, I really am quite under the weather. Is there any possible chance I could stay with you for a few days?”

Luna smiled indulgently. “I was wondering when you would need me, Harry. It would be lovely to host you. You can meet the baby thestrals on my land. They are very darling.”

“I would very much like to meet them Luna.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco had never been so embarrassed in his life and now here he is, holding his disgruntled cat cradled in one arm and the other poised in front of a front door.  
‘I hope he doesn’t have company…’

Draco was about to finally knock, he swears, when the door swings open unabated and his best friend appears garbed in his typical home attire, slacks with a button down.

“Draco? You saved me a trip of coming down to your shop and pestering you into a nice long talk involving feelings, come on in, then.”

Draco let his hand fell and gave Blaise a petulant look that he didn’t really deserve and then deposited Lilac in the entryway. Blaise still lived in his ancestral house. All five floors and twenty bedrooms of it. His mother tended to live where her husband at the time did, so Balise was mostly alone with his thoughts...and one night stands. Draco knew that the women he took home must be pretty impressed with the state of his home. The rich brown interior was comforting and the trinkets and knick-knacks collected from years and years of people were artfully placed around the spaces of each room to minimize any sort of clutter. 

“I can’t say I understand why you decided to take your cat on a little adventure over to your best mate, Blaise’s and yet here she is. Come sit down and tell me what made your face look like that.”

Blaise led Draco into his living room area where he left him to recline on the sofa. Blaise came back with a cup of tea and a fuzzy blanket. He gently coaxed Draco up, slide the blanket around each side of Draco, tucking him in and then handing him the tea. 

Draco clutched the tea and peered at Blaise from the corner of his eyes as he sat down on the armchair next to the couch.

“I made a fool of myself Blaise.”

“Ah, was Potter involved in this then? I had been wondering. Not much seems to faze you as hard as Potter does, dear.”

Draco gave him a glare as he sipped at the tea in silence.

“I may have strongly implied that if we were to share a bed I would become aroused.”

Blaise had taken a moment to drink some of his own tea and yet did not get around to swallowing soon enough, as he spit the liquid into the air incredulously.

“Well, please control yourself, that was quite a spectacle for a pure blood.” 

Blaise wiped his face with his handkerchief. “Good Merlin, Draco! What exactly did you say to the man?”

“Exactly what I just told you. Verbatim.”

Draco would have laughed at the wide eyed expression on the usually unflappable Blaise and yet kept a straight face in this situation as it was entirely because of his own...ridiculousness.

“And? What did the Chosen One say? Was it a ‘take me Draco now, use my bum for your gay,’? Or was it a ‘ew Draco gross, step away from my famous person,’? Actually I take that first one back, because if he would have, I have a feeling you wouldn’t be here right now...or so grumpy. Unless you have and it went badly?” 

Draco was halfway through his tea at this point and was just enjoying the fact that he had one friend who would commiserate with him.

“No, Blaise, it was nothing so dramatic. And Potter is as straight as they come, unfortunately.”

Blaise snickered at that. “Only a select few would think so, Draco, but sure. Now, tell me what happened.”

“I ran away to here. This story is quite a short story Blaise, so be sure and keep up best of your ability. He, as in Potter, asked to stay at my house and sleep in my bed. I said no because I am gay and that I would get aroused and then I quite literally ran from the room accosted Lilac and came straight to you after flooding to the Ministry close by.”

By the unimpressed expression on Blaise’s face, Draco could see that he might have overreacted just a tad. Now that he’s sitting, drinking tea, and in a presence of a friend he could feel his heart stop racing and his palms stop sweating. 

“I just felt so scared. I’ve only ever told you, Mom, and Pansy that I’m gay Blaise. To say it to three people who have hated me most of my life, with reason, was too much. Not to mention that Potter was one of them, and now he has to realize how I feel about him...I bet he threw up in his mouth after I left.”

Blaise sighed. “I wouldn't worry. Potter is more oblivious than my mom when confronted with her husband’s numerous girlfriends and affairs.” He shrugged. “Just say that it’s been a long time for you, between boyfriends, and you would get horny. He doesn’t have to know that you are irrevocably in love with him or anything.”

Drco frowned. “I’m never talking to Potter again. Surely you can see that. Malfoys can't survive such a state of embarrassment.”

Blaise laughed outright at that statement. “Oh, Darling. If that were true, you’d be dead. Just act calm next time you see the Gryffindor trio and don’t incriminate them any further with your worthless flirting and pining.”

Draco sighed and leaned further into the sofa, letting it mold around his body.

“I think I will become one with your sofa Blaise. And never leave it.”

“Please lose your sweet little virginity on someone else’s sofa, Draco. That statement was quite uncalled for.”

And with an undignified snort, both men were laughing away.

After Draco calmed down and they have a moment of comfortable silence, Draco pondered out loud.

“I hope I don’t have anyone come into the shop today...I didn’t even close it up.”

Blaise hummed in agreement.

“Ah, I’m sure it can wait until later. The shop is sure to survive a few hours without my presence, and I’ve never had many friends come and go from that place as it is.”

And with that statement, Draco and Blaise had a companionable evening, talking, laughing. Well, Blaise might have been plotting.

What fun is there without a little thoughtful plotting to add some spice to an evening in. Blaise wished that he could fix some of Draco’s insecurities and problems, which all seem to hinge on a certain green-eyes Gryffindor. If he could somehow fix this then Draco can move on and finally meet people, maybe romantically, but at least put himself out there in the world. 

Blaise pretended to listen to the differences between one type of root than another and how they relate to muscle relaxant potions but instead let his mind wonder through some possibilities. Maybe it’s time for him to take some action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait for this chapter! This week was a holiday where I live and so I had myself a little vacation and had such fun~ 
> 
> Thanks for reading and the support <3  
> -justrachael


	9. Time in Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros own it all! Not me!

Harry followed Luna into her tower-esque home on the outskirts of London. Harry had never been there before but if he were to describe how he decorates Luna’s home himself, he wouldn’t be so far off from the truth. The rooms with full to the brim with color, the pillows an assortment of rainbows, the kitchen cabinets mostly pink and orange, and the front door was a light green. 

“Is the green meant to ward anyway anything in particular, Luna?”

Luna laughed her distinctive dreamy laugh. “Oh, not at all, Harry. This is just a lovely baby green. It brings out the sunflower yellow from the window on the fourth floor, can’t you tell?”

Harry looked up but couldn’t say whether the baby green and sunflower yellow particularly complemented each other. But he could appreciate how homey the house felt to him. Even though it has been a while since he’s seen Luna, and even longer since he’d seen her outside of group get-togethers, she has always had a way about her to make him feel utterly at ease with himself. 

He hasn’t felt more like himself in such a long time. 

He had gone back to Grimmauld’s to pack a bag for a few days and even with the Fondness potion kicking in, he felt like crawling into a corner and not coming back out for a few weeks. However, he pushed through it, threw a few t-shirts and pants into a duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder, said a quick goodbye to Kreacher. He left without looking back. 

He dropped the duffel in the room that Luna picked for him. It was sparse, white, and had a large window with a lovely view of Luna’s ground and an unusual pick of animals. He could spot a pack of thestrals near the forest on one side and what seems to be a large turtle under the awning, and was that..a unicorn? Harry shook his head in disbelief. Luna certainly has a way about her, doesn’t she?

After Harry took a few hours of a much-needed nap, he went downstairs in search of food and company, he couldn’t believe that he actually felt hungry, and found Luna reading a book, upside down, of course, and stirring a green drink with her wand.

Harry winced at the sight as he came closer and sat down on the wooden chair across from Luna’s at what seems to be her dining table. However, it was cluttered with everything not to do with eating. Books, candles, papers in various colors, and stacks and stacks of copies of the Quibbler.

Harry picked up a Quibbler copy and mildly turned the pages, learning about how nargles mate in the winter months, and other important facts that one must know. He doesn’t typically read any magazines or newspapers, but he can’t help but be charmed by the Quibbler and its steadfast uniqueness. Does he really need to read an article about ‘How to tell if your Niffler is secretly depressed?’ or about ‘Nargles in Space? Yes, of Course!’ maybe not, but they were a bit fun, yeah? And Harry could use a bit of fun. Harry could almost always use a bit of fun. 

All in all, they had a peaceful evening together, in the same room and yet separate. Harry bit into a sandwich he had haphazardly slapped together from the ingredients in Luna’s fridge. “Consider everything mine as yours, Harry. After all, all of everything belongs to everyone as a whole, right?”

“ahhh, yes, Luna. I can’t say I disagree.” Luna just seems so right when he says things that could be half nonsense. 

They quickly descended into silence again, with Luna writing on a piece of parchment in a loopy script and Harry reclining on a chair eating his sandwich and flipping through another Quibbler copy. Harry couldn’t remember the last time a conversation wasn’t focused on him, his problems, his sleeping, his unhappiness...and he couldn’t remember the last time he could be around someone without making them actively upset with his presence. Hermione and Ron were upset for him, and that should make a difference, and it does a little, but it also doesn’t make him feel good either. 

His relationship with Ginny was always loud. They were always talking, laughing, yelling with loud emotions. There weren’t many soft minutes of silence Harry could sink into and find himself. He was with Ginny for a long time, and now that he has a moment of tranquility he can look back and contemplate on what made it fail. He could have sworn, as well as anyone who knew them, that they were the perfect match. 

She is beautiful, active, funny, smart, with a full heart. Could it be that he couldn’t match any of those attributes? He used to be active, and maybe a bit funny. Some could even say sassy. But he was never beautiful, not with his messy hair, malnourished body, and awkward glasses. But he has a full heart, right? He has the drive to help people? He still has that right?

Harry looked up from his copy of the Quibbler to find Luna studying him with his crystal blue eyes.

“Do you want to see the Thestrals, Harry? They are very calming.”

Harry smiled at Luna with relief. “Lead the way.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco skulked back into his own store the next morning. He had eaten some of the overly sugary cereal that Blaise eats for breakfast and listened to Blaise’s advice. 

“You just need to have some more confidence, Draco. Be yourself, be proud, be gay.”

He spooned more cereal into his mouth, chewed, swallowed.

“After all, the Golden Boy is only one man. I’m sure there are a few out there who wouldn’t mind spending some intimate moments with a lad such as you, my boy.”

Blaise spoons more cereal into his mouth. Draco twirls his spoon around in the bowl and wishes he had a few deviled eggs, and pancakes.

“I’m fine Blaise. I only had a slight overreaction is all. I’m more than fine.”

Blaise chuckled at that. “What will happen is Potter is still at your place? In your bed? Asleep? Naked?”

Draco had only just dared to take another spoonful of cereal into his mouth when it all burst back out of him.

“Oh, disgusting, Draco! Who raised you to be such a gross person?” Blaise used the napkin at the side of his plate to wipe the table in front of Draco.

“Must you make me regret being your friend, Blaise? Good Merlin. If Potter has any sense, he would have left my shop.”

And after Draco ate most of the cereal in his bowl out of politeness instilled in him at an early age, he grabbed Lilac, who had really quite liked Blaise's house with its abundance of window curtains, and left Blaise with a ‘See you, thank you for letting me sleep over.”

Now Draco was subtly walking through his store, wary of anyone, or anything. He had been relieved when he noticed the small handwritten note next to his door lock. It was signed HG, Hermione Granger we would wager, and simply notified him that she had enacted a light locking spell on his residence when she had left. It also included an apology for bothering him and causing him any distress.

Draco, in the living room of his tiny apartment, deposited Lilac onto the sofa, who meowed at him, did a quick peek into his bedroom and let out a breath at the empty bed, and then descended down the stairs, determined not to lose any time today. He can’t exactly close his store every day of the week, or anytime Potter requires him. Silly Draco, not him. Just the potion. 

It doesn’t concern him, Potter’s health. It doesn’t matter to him in any way. He would, of course, like him to be relatively healthy, because he did save them all and was a kind person, but he wasn’t Draco’s responsibility. 

Draco has only wanted peace and quiet since he had bought his store-front and began to live alone. He adopted LIlac purely to have a small amount of service company, and he is friends with Blaise, who has never let too much time go between visits to Draco’s shop or fire calling him to come out to a gathering of some sort.

Draco has only thought of his ...crush on the one and only Harry Potter a few times throughout the years. When something ‘noteworthy’ happened in regards to potter or to any of the around Potter a Profit article would undoubtedly display the so-called news in bold print. When Potter stopped training with the Aurors, when Ginny Weasley became head chaser of the Holy Head Harpies, and when, most recently Harry Potter attended the banquet, the very same one that Draco had made a brief appearance too. Draco would look at these articles and internally feel the pull of attraction towards Potter, but he would pull himself out.

Draco had taught himself to think of the magazine Harry Potter as a celebrity, and everyone has small, petty crushes on celebrities all the time. 

“Draco, I’m here for my shipment. It was a shame that you were out yesterday?”

Draco had barely blinked and suddenly his blonde absent-minded but omniscient eyes were before him at his shop’s front table. 

“Ah, Lovegood, yes. Of course, I have it all in the back, just one moment.”

When Draco returned with her packages he expected Lovegood to stay for a little while and chat which was a normal occurrence between the two of them.

He had been amazed when Lovegood had reached out to Draco even before he had sent out his apology letter to her. She had been locked up in his ancestral home and yet still was able to pity him and see his needs of friendship and communication through where the hatred should have been. They are not typical friends like his friendship with Blaise, but when he sees Lovegood, it is always pleasant to talk, and she always seems so genuinely interested in his interests and daily life. Could it be because of her therapist background?

“Draco, I would love to chat a bit and ask about darling Lilac, but I’m afraid that I have a guest staying with me and I really should get back to him.”

Draco was a little taken aback. “You have a counseling patient staying with you? Is that quite legal?”

“Oh, no, no. I have an office for my work, Draco. It’s just Harry staying with me. Did you know he’s been having a tough time lately?”

“How did you know that I’ve even seen him lately? I hadn’t seen a hair on his head in five years and suddenly I can't move an inch without hearing about the Chosen One. It’s just like Hogwarts again! Shit!” Draco slapped the table in front of him while infused with anger.

Lovegood smiled patiently at Draco, even though he had acted no better than any five-year-old. He wilted under her gaze.

“Yes...I had heard that he’d been having problems recently.”

Lovegood’s smile stayed bright and warm on her face as she tilted her head a quarter to the left.

“...okay...I did give him some potion to help him and let him stay the night in my house because he was a fucking mess. The Weasel and Granger were also being forceful, and all that. So, yes. I have seen the mess that is Harry Potter.” Draco crossed his arms.

Luna’s head had righted itself during his rant and looked at him curiously.

“Would you like to have some afternoon tea at my residence, Draco?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, friends~ I appreciate every kudo and comment SO much. This is my first work and I'm 'obviously' trying to find my writing style while also doing my best to honor the story I'm trying to tell.
> 
> Thank you all<3
> 
> -justrachael


	10. Cleansing Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything! J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers do!

Harry spent most of the afternoon with the thestrals in the field behind Luna’s tower home. It was so peaceful to watch the animals graze and the small baby thestral run and hop and play. 

Harry couldn’t help but contemplate why only those who have seen death could see thestrals. He ran a hand down the rump of one of the adult thestrals who had wandered over to sniff at him and couldn’t help but think it a shame. They are not the most aesthetically pleasing creatures with their skeleton-like appearance, but they are lovely all the same. 

Could it be a boon given to those who have had their innocence or love or hope or or or ripped away? If so, Harry couldn’t help but be a tad grateful. They are improving his mood after all. Or Luna is. Or maybe Luna’s reclusivity is. Maybe he should take up with Luna.

Oh, not in a sexual way. Although her blonde hair is a bit enticing, isn’t it?

But, maybe in a working sort of way. If he had something to occupy himself maybe he would be happier? 

Oh, geez his thoughts were turning into Hermione, who is probably lamenting the fact that her treatment outline for him was an absolute failure. It was brilliant in design for a more competent person perhaps. He just wasn’t sure if he was sane enough. 

Harry sits back down on the grass and stares at the horizon as the thestrals live around him.

Luna doesn’t think that he’s insane, according to their conversation earlier in the afternoon.

They were walking to see the thestrals.

“Luna, I haven’t been myself lately. Ginny had mentioned PTSD, and...I couldn’t complete Auror training. I think I might be losing my mind.”

“Oh, Harry, you couldn’t be anyone else, you are always simply yourself. Just not the most optimal you, maybe? Not insane, not crazy, not harmful.”

Harry chuckled at that. It is true that he’s always had to live as unapologetically himself as possible.

“Yes, I think so, Luna. It’s just..I’ve had nightmares and Ron and Hermione got very worried and I think my personality was quite abnormal. Just demanding...and almost cruel.”

Luna frowned in thought.

“Have you had any spells hit you or have any unusual potions lately?”

Malfoy’s Fondness popped into his head.

“The unusual potions...yes. But I was strange before I drank it. Do you think Ginny could be right? The PTSD?”

Luna sighed and stopped walking, facing Harry.

“You realize that I’m a therapist, yes, Harry? But I’m also your friend. It wouldn’t be what either of us needs for me to give you therapy. But you do need it. And it could only help you. If you are worried about your fame being a factor, I’ll find someone who will value your privacy. I don’t know whether you have PTSD, or if you just need to air out your thoughts, or if you are more than a little depressed, and it’s not fair to diagnose you. But I do think it could only do you some good.” 

Harry swallowed the no at the tip of his tongue. His knee-jerk reaction was to refuse, and yet. In the safe countryside walking next to the most calm infused person Harry had ever known, he felt okay.

“I’ll meet one. Just once. To see if I need it.”

Harry wasn’t sure why it wasn’t easier to let go of control around Luna rather than Hermione and Ron. But he didn’t feel the need to be as stubborn and obstinate as he would have been with his two best friends. 

Luna smiled at him.

“But I will say that I don’t know if you also don’t have magic related problems as well, Harry. You should have your magic checked for any abnormalities in the strains as well.” 

Harry looked to Luna questionably.

“You think I could be having trouble with my magic?” he pulls out his wand from his back pocket and performs a few simple levitating and summoning spells with the fallen leaves surrounding them. Harry shakes his head. 

“It feels normal. Everything went smoothly. I think my magic’s fine, Luna.”

She just beamed at him, and told him to enjoy his time with the thestrals before aparating away in a dash. 

“I have a tiny little errand to run Harry, I’ll be back in no time! Just relax”

And now Harry was doing just that. Nothing to do. No people to see. Ron and Hermione and their love and expectations worlds away from where they could touch him. And he’s away from Sirius’ house which chokes him with grief, anxiety, urgency, anxiety...he’s not excited at the prospect of going back there. Living with the memories in the damp and depressing family estate.  
Maybe he could convince Luna into letting him be a roommate. He could pay her. And help with...thestrals? Yeah, that could work. This would be nice. This will be nice. He starts to form his plan to get Luna to let him live within her peaceful place as he watches the thestrals graze.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No, no. I think that would be an absolutely horrible experience Luna.” 

Draco huffed and then realized how he might have come across to Luna who was only trying to pass on a polite invitation to him. 

“Not that having tea with you would be anything less than lovely, Lovegood. But Potter and I don’t get on. We never have. I have tried to be of use of him recently, but I’m afraid it ended quite abruptly and I can’t be bothered to spend anymore time with him.

Luna tilted her head in question.

“Do you know any magic cleaning spells Draco?”

Draco was a pureblood wizard. He was raised with the upbringing that cleansing his magic after coming in contact with those who are ‘less than desirable’ would contaminate his magic if he didn’t cleanse his magic every few months. He’s sure Luna knows this as she was also raised in a, yes unusual, but nonetheless pureblood family. 

“I do, yes, Luna. It’s been quite some time since I’ve used one, but yes. Why?”

Luna dramatically sighed, her blonde hair ruffling around her shoulders and her shoulders drooping. Her face resulted in a pout.

“Someone I know really could use with his magic being cleansed, and I never learned. My father has always been quite progressive you see. Could you do it?”

Draco was taken aback.

“Who needs their magic cleansed? It never really needs it, you see. I was forced to when I came home from breaks because there were...muggle borns in my classes and my father worried over the potential problems that could have caused my magic, but it was all nonsense crafted from thousands of years of discrimination. And, regardless, I’ve never performed the spell on anyone other than myself.”

“Oh, this person is not prejudice, Draco. It’s just a something that I want to check. It will only take a few moments. Come to tea and then return to your shop and everything will be as it was.”

Draco finally connected the dots and couldn’t believe his own stupidity.

“This is about Potter isn’t it? Lovegood, no. I refuse. Find a physician to clear his magic. I won’t have anything to do with it. Or him, really.”

Draco turns his back to Luna and begins to walk away towards the back of his store. His heart was beating fast and he felt uncomfortable.

Why can’t the Chosen One leave him alone? Must he invade every part of Draco’s life and make him miserable everyday?

He could hear Luna’s steps increase as she followed him into the back of his store in a haste.

“Draco, please! It would really help. You know that I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think it would be the right decision. Harry would never see a physician for a magic cleansing. And if he did, it would be all over the Daily Prophet with every speculation attempt under the sun. Doing this would make me feel better, eliminating a potential problem, and it would let Harry have peace of mind over the press. 

Draco closed his eyes and breathed slowly.  
He doesn’t owe Potter anything. His time, his energy, anymore free potions. He works as a Potions seller for a living and yet the rich Harry Potter has not paid for any of the potions he’s consumed...He definitely doesn’t deserve to be humiliated again in front of Potter, which will no doubt happen when Potter remembers the embarrassing spectacle that Draco inadvertently did last time they were in each other’s company. He is gay..and Potter knows it...and knows that is attracted to him..is aroused by him...Oh, the absolute humiliation. 

However, Draco is also in love with this man. Has been in love with him for most of his life. The life inside of Harry Potter is more potent and mesmerizing than anyone has a right to be and it draws Draco towards him with no effort, encouragement, or kindness. 

His body stoops and he clutches the door handle of his potion’s room as he turns to face the patient, silent blonde.

“I’ll do it. But I won’t speak with him. And I’ll leave the moment it’s finished. We will have a more legitimate tea time together at a later time, Luna. This is my offer for today.

Luna smiles and extends her hand to Draco who places his palm in hers and feels the expected swoop in his stomach as they disappear.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Harry was so close to falling asleep. His eyes were closed. The sun beating down on his face, the open field, the grass beneath his head, fluttering against his face relaxed him immensely. He felt completely at ease with his situation and who he is. He’s Harry Potter. The boy with bad sight, who likes treacle tarts and playing Quidditch. He enjoys playing chess with Ron who always wins, and listening to Hermione’s rants on anything she finds worthy even though he doesn’t always match her interest.

He is also the boy who destroyed the greatest evil of his time. Not alone, and yet in death everyone is alone. He came back to live his life, and yet he knows he was drifting away. Why is that he feels so much himself in this moment? He hasn’t felt so much himself...in years. 

Yes, he is drifting off, he can see the happy dream at the edge of his eyelids, and he feels a tremor through his body at the thought of dreaming something peaceful.

He hears a loud pop and sits up in a rush, wand already pulled out and Expelliarmus at the edge of his tongue.

He recognizes Luna immediately and lowers his wand, slowly rising from his place on the thestrals grazing area. Once standing, he looks at at her again and sees Draco Malfoy walking beside her.

Well. A surprise, indeed. But not an unwelcome one. Harry couldn’t help but notice the stirring of attraction pass through him and although he would like to think that through he pushed it aside in lieu of greeting the two blondes.

“Luna hi, I had no idea that you were retrieving a Malfoy as your errand.”

Luna beamed at him and Malfoy’s pained face closed in even further into itself.

“Look, Malfoy, about the last time I saw you, I’m so so-”

Malfoy raised his wand him and began to murmur a spell unfamiliar to Harry. 

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?” Harry knocked Malfoy’s wand to the ground with a swipe of his hand.”

Malfoy sighed and bent down to retrieve it.

Luna blinked at the scene before you.

“Harry, Draco is only cleansing your magic. No need to be violent.”

Harry blinked at her in response.

“Malfoy will cleanse my magic?”

Luna gave a brief description of Pure Blood culture and the traditional usage of cleaning spells. “They could also be handy if one has had any exposure to a harmful spell, especially if they were only in the vincity and not directly hit by the spell, or not the intended target,”

Harry nodded, slowly. It was the first time he’d ever heard of such a spell and was, as expected, a little upset at it’s past usage.

Malfoy raised his wand for the second time and began the spell. Harry felt a few tingles and the feeling of someone running their hands along his body in search, but otherwise thought that the spell was at least unobstructive. 

Malfoy released the spell and Harry could tell that something wasn’t right.

“I felt something unusual within your magic core, Potter.” Malfoy’s voice cause shivers to run up Harry’s arms.

“I think something has been sucking some magic from you. Either a spell you’ve encountered, or a magical beast, or even someone you once lent magic to?”

“I honestly can’t imagine a scenario when any of those options are correct. No to the strange spell, no to the magical beasts, and no to lending away my magic.

Malfoy frowned and looked at Luna, who also had a contemplative expression adorning her face, 

“I think we need to look deeper into this. Harry, I think this might be the cause of some of your problems! Oh, thank you so much Draco! I really appreciate you taking the time away from your shop to be here,”

Draco inclined his head and muttered. “I appreciate your patronage Lovegood, please come to my shop again. He nodded briefly at Harry and began to strut away.

“Malfoy wait! Please!” harry jogged after Malfoy and spoke all in one breath.

“You being gay is fine, and getting aroused by me is fine. More than fine. Could be considered a miracle, in fact.” He released a self-deprecating laugh.

Malfoy’s face was frozen into a light frown.

“ I..see. Thank you for letting me know, Potter. I’m sure it’s unpleasant to hear such things when you are straight.”

Harry blinked. 

“Ah, that’s right. Yes. I did say that. And believe that for twenty-five years.”

Malfoy’s eyebrows descended even further down his face.

“What are the rules about sexuality, Malfoy? Could I change it at all? Trade it in? I think I’ve been feeling a change.”

Harry watched the slow bloom of red appear on Malfoy’s pale cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of writer's block, but I think I'm back on track! I hope you like this chapter, let me know how you feel about it by commenting or leaving a kudos~  
> Thank you to everyone!
> 
> -justrachael


	11. Hand Holding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm studying for the GRE at the moment...it's been rough:(
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers, not me!

“How did you know that you were gay, Malfoy?”

Harry had finally had some of the peace and quiet that he needed to really contemplate his actions as of late. His ...caressing of Malfoy’s hair, and admiration of his hands were not, well, straight things, were they? Straight people didn’t tend to do things like that, right?”

His heart was beating at a brisk pace, but he had Malfoy near him when he had last run away from him and needed to keep at least a little of his cool. 

Speaking of Malfoy...his face really was quite lovely. Especially with the blush high on his defined cheekbones, and his shy demeanor of lowering his eyes.

“I..always knew. It wasn’t suddenly a surprise for me or anything.” 

How had Harry never noticed how attractive Malfoy’s accent was, the undulating posh tone made his blood boil.

“Well, why don’t we finish up this conversation inside, boys?”

Harry jumped, having had forgotten Luna’s presence. She was smiling up at the two of them, her hair blowing with the slight wind.

They weren’t anything alike, Luna and Malfoy, Harry couldn’t help referring to his earlier thought of Luna’s blonde hair. He’s very lean and tall with a stern expression, while Luna’s womanly figure and dreamy expression, while sweet, did not capture Harry’s attention as completely. 

He noticed Malfoy slowly edging away. “I really must leave, Lovegood. I wouldn’t want to impose further upon you, and Potter, here.”

Harry grabbed his hand and even while his brain was celebrating the act of capturing those graceful fingers within his much more thick ones, he tried to calm his voice to not frighten off the Slytherin.

“Please stay a little longer, Malfoy.”

He watched the appealing Adam's apple bounce along Malfoy's throat and he swallowed and then nodded, just slightly. His hand was slack in Harry’s but did not pull away. And so, Harry considered that a win.

They continued to hold hands on the walk back to Luna’s house, and Harry refused to let go when Malfoy tried to pull away once they entered. 

They made eye contact for a second as a result and Harry felt the attraction ripple through him as a result.

He led them over to a couch and pulled Malfoy down next to him. He looked a little dazed and subdued, but Harry was fine with that as it let him study him more carefully, and gave him time to really think about his reactions and what that could mean for him.

Luna had disappeared into the kitchen and emerged after a few minutes with tea for the three of them. The teacups were an assortment of animal themed and were spelled to make that animal sound when you took a sip from the cup. Harry had been taken off guard when his teacup broke into a ferocious roar as he took a drink from the rim. He was just glad he managed not to spill any. Malfoy’s let out a sweet tweet from a baby bird displayed on the body of the teacup and Luna’s made a distinct ‘oink’ for it’s pig character.

Harry decided to let the tea cool for a bit as a result of this discovery. He also was using his left hand as his right hand was stubbornly not letting go of the blonde’s hand next to him. 

Luna leaned forward and steepled her hands together.

I owled Hermione and Ron because I think that in light of this discovery, they could be a huge asset.

Harry blinked. “Ah, okay. Yeah, no, that does seem like the right thing to do. Hermione’s sure to have some ideas.”

Harry should feel upset or worried about something unknown sucking away his magic, but he honestly felt so normal and fine right at that moment, that it was hard to feel particularly scared.

He looked over at the man next to him. Draco Malfoy. He who has always been a horrible git. He who took his breath away at the ministry banquet oh so recently, and he who’s nervous demeanor, long fingers, and wispy blonde hair somehow caused his body a fair deal of unexpected attraction.

“I honestly had no idea that the two were dating. I thought from talking to Draco before that either of you really knew the other.” She tilted her contemplatively while stirring her tea, seemingly unaffected by Malfoy’s jump and horror expression.

“I do see it though, of course. You will have a long and happy relationship, in my opinion.”  
She nodded thoughtfully.

“No, no, Lovegood, please, this is, uh”

Harry, not so smoothly, interrupted. 

“It’s new but exciting. I’d always thought he was a fair bit pretty, yeah? I think it’s all the pale about him. Pale hair, skin, eyes, it’s nice. So, meeting him again, really was quite nice.”

He turned to Malfoy with a ready smile, interested in what reaction Malfoy will give him, and discovered at the blonde had..fainted.

His head lolled against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed in apparent sleep. He hadn’t even let out a sound.

Harry hurriedly checked his pulse and ran his hand over the other man’s face to feel for heat indicative of illness.

“Oh, dear, I had an inkling at the spell could wear him out, but I did think that it would take a tad longer. Poor dear, here, take a blanket.”

For some reason, Harry feels as if he should have guessed that dating Draco Malfoy would have unintended effects. If fainting is the worst of it than he presumes that they’ll do just fine. 

Not that he’s expressly asked the blonde if they were dating. Or asked him on a date. Or did any of the typical dating maneuvers that one does when courting. Harry ruefully sighed. When Malfoy wakes up and they have a minute alone, or even in front of Luna, it’s not likely she’ll be anything less than supportive, he’ll make a proper go of it. A proper go of Malfoy. Draco, that is. Wow, such a whirlwind. 

He slowly maneuvers Malfoy’s head to rest against his shoulder and shivered at the sensations from his breath on his neck. He wrapped Luna’s blanket across their laps and tucked it behind Malfoy’s right shoulder like a backward shrug.

“Yes, indeed. Luna, don’t mind me asking, but do you own any quieter teacups?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ron, this is an owl from Luna. I was expecting an update from her.”  
Hermione accepted the letter from the tawny owl and turned toward her boyfriend, who was reclining in his office chair. His eyes were closed and Hermione would think that he was contemplating something very important, but she knew and loved the man and knew now that he was probably thinking of the Canons, herself, or when lunch. Not that he’s not brilliant. Oh, no. He is amazing at technical strategies that other Aurors rely on when on missions. He’s just also Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger will always think that she knows what he’s thinking, that’s all. 

“That’s good. Read it to me, love?”

“Of course.”

She read him the letter and he opened his eyes, meeting hers in interest and shock.

“Luna did it. Cleansing his magic. I should have thought of that.” She slumped into the armchair across from her boyfriend’s desk. 

If Hermione were a self-destructive house elf, she would have already started bashing her head with a lamp.

Ron had his eyes opened and seemed to be thinking very deeply if his scrunched up eyebrows were an indicator. 

“You know, his house...Grimmauld place, I mean...it’s a bit creepy, yeah?”

Hermione was always surprised by her partner when she least expected it.

“Yes, it is a bit creepy. It’s already late enough, grab your cloak. I want to talk to Harry and Luna as soon as possible because I think you’re onto something. Oh, and Malfoy I guess. Since he’ll be there, and he does seem to have a working brain.” She walked over and gave Ron a lazy kiss on the cheek while he smiled indulgently up at her.

Then he couldn’t help but pull her down onto him reclining in the chair. They left, with brighter smiles, ten minutes later.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Draco woke up lying on a soft couch, a heavy blanket was thrown across his body and it seemed as if he was alone. He could always tell if he was alone when waking up. A holdover from the war and when he slept he never knew if his house had less than intended guests. Who sometimes had the habit of waking him up in unpleasant ways. 

Regardless, he slowly woke up. Moved his hand from underneath his cheek to rub at his eyes, and then slowly opened them.

Ah, that’s right. Draco remembered now that he was visiting Lovegood, tasked with a cleansing spell for the Chosen one...who had then touched him too much. Hand holding is not something he’d ever done outside of his mother. Even when he was trying to be perfect and dating Pansy, they were never the hand holding type, it was too tame. Too sweet. But Potter’s hand was anything but sweet.

It was bigger than Draco’s. Don’t think he didn’t notice. But he couldn’t help but think that they fit nicely together. He liked it. He was confused, but he liked it.

Draco knew that it didn’t mean that his feelings were at all reciprocated. That would be ridiculous. Even if he were at all gay, he’s still the Chosen One. The Savior of the Wizarding World. It would be ridiculous. He would be ridiculous.

It made for a nice memory, though. Something that he can reminisce with Lilac on occasion when he feels particularly bad about himself. 

Draco finally noticed the faint voices coming from a different room. He couldn’t tell who the voices belonged too, but he would hazard a guess that two of them would be Potter and Lovegood. 

After going to the bathroom to relieve himself and try his best to freshen up his looks, he walked to the area where he had heard voices before. He walked towards the door and thought to knock, but decided against it in favor of slowly turning the door knob and opening the door.

It revealed the typical people that he had spent far too much time with lately. The Golden Trio, with the bright light shining down from Wizard god above upon their heroic heads, and Lovegood with her ethereal glow from the inside out, warming all those who come in contact with her. 

They all turned to look at him, and Draco couldn’t say what the reactions of Weasley and Granger were, or even Lovegood’s because he was captivated by green.

‘Look away, look away, they’ll know.’ the murmuring from his brain made his eyes move, however, they descended to...the lips. They always look so nice...

Fortunately for Draco, Potter decided to move then, breaking their locked gazes. 

However, unfortunately for Draco’s mental state, he was moving ...towards him. 

Once Potter was within reach, Draco made a mental decision to just go with it.

Just be chill. Let him do whatever he wants to you. Whether that be violence or oh-so-amazing.

Potter had a bright smile, one that causes his eyes to crinkle a little in their corners. It made Draco’s heart skip a beat, as usual. Because it was a real smile. At him.

Potter grabbed Draco’s hand with his and bright it to his own face, rubbing the back of Draco’s hand into his cheek.

“How did you sleep, Draco?”

A that, Draco could feel all the chaos of the world crashing in around him. People gasped, he stopped breathing, and Potter smiled.

“Am I dead. Did I actually die? Is this what I get when I die?” Draco was fiercely whispering to the Angel Potter.

Angel Potter tipped his head back and laughed authentically. Draco drank up the sight of his Adam's apple at this opportunity.

“You are very alive, Draco. Would you like me to get you some water? Are you cold?”

Regularly, earthly Potter then brought his hands up Draco’s arms and began to give them a good rub. Even though it was not cold, in any way. 

Weasley cleared his throat.

“Harry, what is this, exactly? You are so strange around Malfoy recently.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed.

Lovegood turned towards her school friends.

“Didn’t you know they were dating? They’re so sweet to each other, really. Draco was so careful with his cleansing spell earlier.

Potter flashed her a grin, and his hands lowering themselves to Draco’s hips (his hands were lying limply at his sides, having had all of his thoughts obliterated and no real desire to move) he addressed his oldest friends.

“It’s true. We’re together.”

Weasley’s eyes were about to pop from his skull if he opened them any further and Granger’s eyebrows were almost inside her eyes. Their reactions were predictable and Draco would have expected no less. His own reaction was a surprised blink at the back of Potter’s head. 

His face then turned panic-stricken and his head snapped towards Draco’s.

“I’m sorry, I meant to ask you out formally first. I really did.” He clutched his hands to Draco’s hips with determination.

Draco blinked again. His mouth was dry but he forced himself to get some words out. 

“Ah, I...see.”

Potter relaxed his hands on Draco’s lean hips and smiled a shy smile with a tilt of his head.

“Would you like to date me, Draco?”

Draco swallowed, hearing his first name come from this man was such an arousing situation. A direct daydream left over from his Hogwarts years. His eyes jumped from Weasley’s pleading eyes, Granger’s assessing eyes, and Luna, well, she wasn’t looking at them but was instead admiring an artifact of some sort from her bookshelf.

He returned his eyes to Potter’s face, running them across his round glasses, strong chin, green eyes...

“I think I would like that water now, Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be wrapping this story up soon, I believe~ I'll go where the characters take me! 
> 
> As always, thanks for all of your support <3  
> -justrachael


	12. The Magic House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really has been a long time...I'm so sorry to everyone and I have some pretty good excuses: sickness, and my job, and applications, and all of the things that make up a busy life. But I want to make this story more of a priority, and finish it with a good ending. For now, here is the next chapter! Thank you for sticking around!
> 
> I own nothing of Harry Potter, which is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

Somewhere in Harry’s head, he knew that he was acting drastically out of character. Well, not the impulsivity, that is quite...normal. Actually, is it? Has he been the typical Gryffindor with a brave demeanor, fierceness in the face of his foes? Boldly going about his days.

...The answer is obviously not. He had to leave the Aurors training program. Maybe that’s where it all started. Or was it when Ginny broke up with him. He couldn’t get her to stay. There was nothing in him that even tried to get her to stay with him. But with Malfoy, he feels more himself. More there.

Maybe it’s the unexpected attraction. He may not have been completely lucid during all of their interactions, but he knows that when he feels the pounding in his chest and the slight blood rush that leads to the beginning of his cock rising. Maybe it’s true that he’s never felt anything for men before, that he can currently recollect, but he can’t deny that he needs Draco’s long, delicate fingers all over his body, as soon as possible.

And so, he grabbed ahold of the boldness that has always been inside and asked Draco out. Formally. With an audience of people, he loves the most, although that wasn’t planned, or necessarily wanted. After all, he probably can’t make out with Draco in front of them, right?

“I think I would like that water now, Potter.”

Malfoy’s eyes were wide and averted away from Harry’s. 

He was trying to quickly think of a response that didn’t reveal that he was desperately pining, but also made Draco answer a yes or no when Luna walked over with her slow gait and handed Malfoy a glass filled with water.

“Oh, Draco, I’m sure you’re still a little depleted, please feel free to treat this house as your own!”

Harry could see Hermione's frown even from the back of his head and was not surprised when she spoke up.

“Harry, did you say that you’re dating because there is some sort of miscommunication? Did something happen that lead you to believe that a relationship was forming between the two of you?” Her shrewd eyes were darting between the two men, taking in Harry’s slight puppy-dog face, complete with disappointed eyes, and drooped posture, and Malfoy’s red cheeks, and shy body language.

Harry could feel his stomach drop right through him. A misunderstanding is not what he wants from Draco Malfoy after all. “Well, maybe it was a misunderstanding? I never want you to feel uncomfortable, Malfoy.”

Harry could see Malfoy’s eyes darting around the people in the room, most of whom aren’t his biggest fan. Malfoy blushed even farther. “Well, a misunderstanding. Yes, I think there might be, well, I would say that I’m confused, I wouldn’t even know...after you, you..are not….umm, and Potter, well.”

Harry was transfixed as he watched Malfoy close his eyes and take a deep calming breath. Then directed his gaze to the floor and remained staring. His eyes a bit glazed over.

Ron and Hermione exchanged expressions of interest with raised eyebrows, and Harry looked over at Luna to see her carefully apply a spread of butter over toast. He then delicately placed it on a plate (one that seemed to be what it actually is, for once. No music or animal sounds this time) and softly walked up to the much taller blonde in the room.

“Here, we are Draco, breakfast. Eat this.” Luna’s voiced startled Malfoy into action. He glanced over at Harry and then looked away, slowly shuffling into a seat at the kitchen table overflowing with toast.

“I don’t know why I’m always eating breakfast with you people,” Draco mumbled to himself as he snatched a piece of toast and unconsciously gently, a bit of just a little of the edge.

While they ate toast and exchanged small talk, mostly led by Luna with Hermione’s ever so often input about creatures with no evidence of their existence, Harry kept sneaking glances at Malfoy. 

He must have been moving too fast, but he honestly doesn’t know how they could be slower paced...after all Harry’s always known Draco Malfoy, since that fateful day in Madam Malkins. He’s stalked him, obsessed over him for hours, straining his eyes for Malfoy’s name on the Marauder’s map. He’s been saved by him when anyone at Hogwarts, let alone someone who had been in his year, could have positively identified him, and then Harry had swept him up and saved him. The feeling of Malfoy’s arms around his waist as they fly out of the burning room descending all around them. 

“Potter, if you don’t mind, your stare is unnerving me. Please avert your gaze.” Harry heard the words from Malfoy’s mouth and then watched the delicate line of his throat as he swallowed nervously before actually processing the meaning behind the words uttered.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” He locks gazes with Ron who seemed exasperated and annoyed if Harry could place his mood based on the placement of his furrowed brow. `

“Oh, Draco, don’t be so flirty in front of the toast, if you please.”

Harry could hear his mind berating him before he fully swung his gaze over to Malfoy.

Who looked perturbed.

“No, Luna. That wasn’t...I wasn’t flirting.” 

“Do you mind if I flirt with you then?” Harry never quite knew when and how to keep his mouth shut. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, that was surprising. And awkward. Unwanted. Well, wanted, but not like this. Not with Weasley stabbing him a million times with the one hex he can perform correctly. Not with Granger dissecting the most horrifying way in which to kill him with the perfectly calculated dark magic straight to the heart. Not with Luna smiling at him indulgently with a smile that would literally say if it could ‘aren’t you two just the sweetest Honeyduke sweet?’ and definitely not when Potter seems so earnestly yearning. It seems real, and if they were alone...Draco would be tempted.

He let lose a sigh full of all of these thoughts and stood up facing the sanest pair of the golden trio.  
“There is a problem within Harry’s magic core. I...I honestly don’t know how that would affect him in this...regard with myself. But I am quite sure that he is not himself. Oh, Potter, please don’t give me that look, you must realize how out of character this is! You told me yourself, only a few days ago that you are straight? How am I meant to understand this flirtation if you are straight?!”

Draco had wanted to remain calm but Potter’s puppy-dog sad eyes look made him have no choice but to throw away his calm demeanor. 

Harry frowned as a response. “I’ve thought mainly about you, to be honest. Not as much about being straight or gay or any of that. I like you. I’m attracted to you. I can’t help it. And I know you are aroused by me. Or, at least you have been. And maybe…” He sent a surreptitious glance around the room. “This is a conversation better had in private.” 

Draco could feel his hands shaking, losing his cool, yet again, in front of the man he’s always fancied. 

Granger stood up from the table with a determined glint to her eye. “As touching as this is, and I am touched, we need to focus on Harry’s health before anything between the two of you should develop. I’m sure everyone agrees with me?”

“Of course, love.” Of course, Weasley would be the ultimate doting boyfriend, Draco’s not surprised in the slightest.

Granger exchanged a loving glance with her boyfriend before finishing her speech. “If it has to do with his magic core, we should look into the places where it’s been most connected too. The places where he’s lived. I’m nervous about bringing you there Harry, but we need to visit Grimmauld place.”  
Draco studied all of their reactions. Lovegood’s twinkling eyes giving away nothing of her thoughts, Weasley’s resolute demeanor staring at Potter with determination, Granger’s slightly nervous hands gripping each other as she resumes her seat, and Potter was...looking at him. Still looking at him. Will he always look at him?

Draco averted his eyes.

“What are we waiting for then? We should go visit the nightmare of a place.”  
*****************************************************************************

They arrived by floo, deciding that it was the most convenient mode of travel for the five of them. Draco was a little surprised that Lovegood had decided to accompany them, but she told them she had no appointments for the day and that there really was little she wouldn’t do for Potter.

Draco couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t do, but he’s a bit of an odd duck.

Draco could feel the magic of the house. It was festering. Swirling in his mind’s eye. 

He could feel the immediate drag of magical energy taken from Potter’s body and as he turned to face the other man, it was obvious by the new weight upon his shoulders and his darkened under eyes that the effects are not unnoticeable. 

“I think you’re right about the house, Granger. It’s sucking magic from Harry.”

Draco approached him and did a modified version of core magic testing, finding the answers that he would have rather not have found.

“It’s been doing this for years...feeding away from him. Is this not his real home? Why would it take from its master? How have any of you not noticed?”

He turns his anger upon Potter’s best friends, not caring about the tears he sees well up in Granger’s eyes.

“Hey. That’s unfair and makes no sense. Why would the house take magic from me? It’s just a house.” He could see Potter become irritable as he watched him reach to his own forehead to rub a supposed headache forming.

“How do we stop it? Do you know? Can we...burn the house?”  
Granger tentatively asked him as Weasley began to pace. Luna went to the far side of the room and seemed to be inspecting a tapestry.

“No! You can’t burn Sirius’s house, Hermione.” Potter draws his wand, a crazed look in his eyes. “I’ll stop you.”  
“Harry! Put down your wand.” Granger and Weasley, shocked, plead with the savior of the wizarding world. 

Draco moves up behind him and tilts my lips towards his ear, “Potter, this isn’t you. Fight the magic influence.” Draco rested his hand on Potter’s wand hand and slowly lowered it.

“I feel awful. I want to stay and leave and the thought of either makes my head split apart.” Draco watched as Potter lowered his face into his hands, his distress obvious. Luna moved away from the opposite wall. 

“We need to bond Harry to the house, right? He needs to allow the easy flow of magic instead.”

Draco hurriedly searched his mind for answers, trying to bring up any pureblood wizarding house ritual he had heard about in his youth.

Luna’s eyes glinted. “Perhaps if he were to marry a relation of the bloodline?”

Granger and Weasley’s eyes snapped to him. Draco blinked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story <3
> 
> -justrachael


	13. I'm not gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been far too long. I'm so sorry and I could blame this on working, job interviews and recent trips abroad, but it's mostly been because I had no idea where my storyline went too. I had clear ideas for this story from conception and for some reason had no idea how to work this chapter and it took me SO LONG to finally have it finished enough to post it. It's definitely not my favorite chapter, but I think I'm back on track, and I'm excited for the rest of this story.
> 
> This is fanfiction based on characters owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brother's.

Ch. 13

Harry had never expected himself getting married to Draco Malfoy. But, when has his life ever been predictable? 

Oh, that’s right. Never. 

So, he supposes that he really shouldn’t be surprised. He seems to be the only one having a calm reaction, however. 

“I mean, Malfoy, you know that you have no choice, right? You have to do this for Harry. You owe him your life, after all!” I wish Ron wouldn’t yell at him like that. It just makes Draco shrink more into himself. 

“This should be a very short bonding, Malfoy. I’ll research first to make sure that is performed perfectly.” Hermione looks excited, as she does when she has the opportunity to learn something new. I guess bonding rituals are at least a little new and interesting to her.

Draco released a long, deep suffering sigh. He really is lovely, Harry couldn’t help thinking as he not so subtly watched him. It’ll be nice to have such a handsome husband. 

At the bark of a laugh, the group of school peers jumped and turned towards the unexpected noise.

Luna snorted, obviously laughing ridiculously hard, her hand covering her mouth, and her eyes watering with the force of holding back another loud bark of her unique laugh. 

“I’m so sorry! I just never expected you all to take me so seriously!”

She began to hiccup, tapping her chest with her hand, gasping to catch her breath.

Harry could feel his face heat up, embarrassed. 

“Ah, so it wasn’t real then. Of course not. I thought it didn’t make much sense, but well.” Draco bit his lip and then glanced at the floor, before flicking his gaze up to meet Harry’s. 

“That was incredibly juvenile, Luna.” Hermione’s flat glare made her co-workers run for the hills, but Luna, being Luna, merely smiled and replied with a soft smile. 

“I don’t have much experience with magical houses, I’m afraid. Only magical beings and their mental states. I was trying to bring a bit of distraction from the sudden tension. Let me be clear, I don’t know how to fix your magical connection, Harry. You should probably reach out to the ministry, perhaps even the unspeakable office for any real suggestions or cures. I apologize for any undue stress.”

Harry didn’t know what to think, or what he should be thinking about, or even what he had been thinking about. He felt tired. Even a little weak. And he wanted these people out of his house. Didn’t they know that Sirius gave him this house? Couldn’t they feel just how important Grimmauld place is to him?

“My head is pounding, Luna. But it’s not you, I just need a lie-down. Maybe we can meet up another day to talk about theories and all that?”

He made eye contact with Draco. What a lovely grey eyes that man has, although he wishes that his eyebrows were more relaxed. That kind of expression made him look upset after all.

“Potter, I think this had better be dealt with, sooner rather than later. Your magic..is being drained. I feel as if I can even see it happening to you as we speak…” His voice trailed off. 

Harry opened his eyes to find out why that is, although he didn’t remember closing them in the first place. It’s no matter. No big deal. 

Harry was already passed out by the time he collapsed, falling forwards into the nearest person.

___________________________________________________________________________

Draco wishes that he could say that he caught Potter, but life isn’t a fairy tale. And it was probably better that Weasley was able to catch him mid-fall and support him because Draco was scared that he would have dropped the savior of Wizarding kind onto these disgusting floors that look as if Potter had never spent the time of day cleaning. 

Draco looked on as Weasley and Granger fussed over Potter, jostling him and yelling into either of his ears, but Potter looked as good as passed out, his face glistening with a light sheen and his breathing a bit too heavy to be considered normal. Draco exchanged a worried glance with Luna. And then cleared his throat.

“He obviously needs medical attention. Let’s go. We need to take him to St. Mungo’s.” Draco was hurriedly walking towards what is most likely the dustiest fireplace in the known world. He had expected the golden trio to follow him but when he heard no steps he looked back.

Weasley and Granger looked to be having a silent conversation with each other. Weasley’s eyes pleading and Granger’s eyes stern.

“Harry refuses to go to St. Mungo’s, Malfoy. He’s been unflinchingly adamant about it.” Weasley sighed, then put a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder. “But we have to do what’s best for him.”

“Absolutely not. How could we even be fit to look at him if we betray his trust like this, Ron? It’s out of the question.” 

Draco wasn’t about to stay and enjoy the show. Not when he has the chance to do something truly useful.

He hefts Harry further up to his side, his left hand gripping his waist and his right hand circling the other man’s shoulders. Not a terribly efficient way to carry an unconscious person, but unfortunately Draco is mostly height, not enough muscles to his name to be able to properly carry the savior of the wizarding world. 

He feels someone supporting Harry’s back, realizing that Luna too, has decided to ignore the arguing couple. They carefully, and quietly make their way to the fireplace, and although Granger noticed that they were flooing away before they disappeared, they were able to make it through the puff of floor safely.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Harry woke up, it was to sounds both familiar and strange simultaneously. He knew he was surrounded by people, he could feel it. But he couldn’t remember going to sleep back at Sirius’s house with guests present. That would be a bit unorthodox for him. 

“Ah, I believe Mr. Potter is awake. Please back away from his bed, all of you.”

Harry managed to get one eye opened through an amazing act of will, he felt as if he was lifting weights with his eyelashes. 

He then immediately closed his eyes because he was without his glasses and looking without seeing seemed a pointless waste in effort.

“Glasses,” He muttered, and his pair slid gracefully onto his face. He managed to open eyes this time, and wouldn’t it be nice if he didn’t always wake up to his friend’s tearful faces for once in his miserable life? At this rate, just from being his friends, Hermione and Ron are going to die young. Ah, at least Luna seems relatively unfazed from everything going on.

“Mr. Potter, tell me what year it is.” A frazzled older man, busted through the group of his old friends, and Malfoy. Who seemed to be interested with Harry’s bedspread than his waking up. 

After Harry had answered all of the questions asked by the Healer sufficiently, he checked on Harry’s vitals with a few practiced wand waves, nodded his head, and left, saying that he would check in later and consult with the magical bonding expert they have on staff. 

Hermione grabbed his hand, clutching it in between hers, “Harry, it wasn’t my idea to bring you here, I’m so sorry.”

Harry blinked. “What do you mean? I must be hurt. Of course, I’d end up here.”

“You made it seem as if coming to St. Mungo’s is the absolute worst, Harry. Because of the publicity.”

“I can’t away from that, though, can I? My life is in the papers regardless of anything I do about it. What happened to me, by the way? Am I sick? I can’t...remember.”

Ron came closer to the bed to contribute. “You fainted at Grimmauld’s, mate. Malfoy and Luna took you here. They’re still muttering about your results and all that, but at least you have some color back in your face.”

“Who? Malfoy? Why was he at my house? I fainted...that seems crazy.”

Harry could feel his head start to pound a little from the force of trying to remember.

Hermione decided to answer. “You don’t recall? Harry, we’ve bee consulting him on your magical problems, and also your sickness, your...not you-ness. It’s because of Grimmauld’s bond on you, but we haven’t been able to discern enough yet.”

Luna piped up, dreamily, “You two have been quite an adorable couple, Harry.”

“What?” Harry sat up hastily, his heart pounding. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not gay.”

Harry’s memories of the last few...not so sure how long are a hazy, swirling mass in his head. He keeps trying to grasp upon anything substantial, but he keeps seeing Thestrals grazing, pale, soft fingers, and then he feels the overwhelming, yet a normalized feeling of doom settle in his stomach. His nightmare feeling.

As Harry was trying to come to terms with his newly clear mind and hazy memories, Malfoy softly entered the room.

“Ah, you’re awake then. I’m glad.” The tentative smile that the blonde offered to Harry nearly caused him to faint again. All Harry could do was stare. Then he spoke.

“I’m not gay, okay, Malfoy. Please keep your tendencies away from me.”

The smile slipped away. Malfoy looked from Hermione’s tear-stained face to Ron’s confused face to Luna’s frown of disapproval aimed at Harry before he covered his mouth with his hand, bowed his back, and swiftly left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3  
> -Justrachael


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